


Gifted Minds and Ties That Bind

by rachelladeville



Series: Darks and Brights [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel, Behavior Modification, Bottom Cas, Gay Sex, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Mild Angst, Mind Control, Mystery, PTSD, Top Dean, canon level violence, conspriacy, dark themes, dreams/visions, epilogue contains updated tags, mentions of het sex/pairings, mild drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 111,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelladeville/pseuds/rachelladeville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Winchester brothers crisscross the country, saving lives and hunting dark things with Cas, they start to realize how foolish it was to believe they could evade the wide reaching arms of their enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Persuit

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second in a series of two installments. Many thanks to MoniJune for her editing prowess ;)

 

Dean glanced down the shoreline. From his perch on a giant rock, he could see Sam and Sarah in the distance. The dark silhouette of their bodies, joined by clasped hands, was meandering along the water's edge. The late evening sun was sinking in the west and wide shafts of its amber light were filtering through the branches of lakeside trees.

The peaceful days here at the cabin had been some of the best Dean had ever known. At moments like this, it was easy to forget the oppressive evil that lurked in the periphery. Cas was silent beside him, relaxed on their giant rock as fishing lures bobbed silently in the water nearby. 

“It’s getting cold,” said Cas, pulling Dean’s attention back.

“Yeah, we should head back soon,” he answered.

But, relaxed and content like he was, it was difficult to put his body into motion. He wanted to stay by the water longer, but the thought of having to hike back up to the cabin in pitch dark prompted him to get up and start packing their things. When he pulled his limp worm from the hook and tossed it in the water, Cas did the same. The two made their way down the boulder they’d been fishing from, climbing carefully over the smaller ones around it that peppered this area of the lakeshore.

As Cas gathered their things, Dean whistled to get Sam’s attention. He saw Sam’s arm rise up in an answering gesture, but the couple seemed in no hurry to get back. They strolled up the pebbled beach as Dean turned to help Cas re-pack all their gear. Then, in the gathering dark, the four began their climb. As his booted feet moved carefully over uneven ground, his mind flashed to the meal they’d soon be having. He and Cas had managed to score half a dozen small lake trout today, and visions of the fillets sizzling in butter on their little camp stove reminded him of how hungry he was.

A granola bar took the edge off, and once they were back at the cabin the three boys worked to clean the fish while Sarah went inside to prepare everything else. She and Cas had been the ones to assume most of the duties in the kitchen. Dean helped by cleaning up but lacked the inclination or creativity to try and cook palatable food with such meager appointments.

Later, after dinner, they all settled in front of the fire. It was their nightly thing. They’d play cards or sometimes listen to music on the little emergency radio. And afterwards, every night, he and Cas would come together in the loft.

When they’d first been told to stay put for a while, Dean had been hoping for a few days to relax in this idyllic setting. It had now been weeks since they’d talked to anyone. It felt like a gift, this extra time, and he treasured it. Spending lots of time with Sam and getting to know Sarah had been his way of making the most of the time he’d been given. With Cas by his side, he’d been soaking up the happiness of this undisturbed life.

With each passing day, Dean found himself growing more and more comfortable with the hands of his lover. He still froze up from time to time, but Cas was intuitive about him and always seemed to sense when Dean was starting to close off. Feeling Dean grow uncomfortable, Cas would trade the urgent hands of a greedy lover for the kind and reassuring touch of a trusted friend.

Sitting together by the fire nightly had given the group plenty of time to talk, and they’d all bonded because of it. Dean had watched as Sam told Cas and Sarah about his visions in detail, even showing them his journal. Cas had reciprocated by explaining to Sam and Sarah that he sees some people as dark and some as light. Dean had watched Cas explain about hunting and killing Darks. Sarah’s eyes had been wide as she listened and then later she’d gotten teary-eyed, marveling over Cas’ words when he’d explained that Dean was a Bright… literally glowing for him all the time... luminous and warm.

Sarah had opened up too, explaining to the group how she’d first learned of her ability.

“I met this guy,” she said tentatively. “I was out with my friends. We were getting dinner at this little pub near my dad’s shop, and he approached me near the bar. He told me that he had the ability to talk to people with his mind. I thought it was just a bad pickup line. But then he did it. I could hear what he was saying plain as day, but his lips never moved. It was incredible.”

“And?” Dean had pressed when she paused.

“He said it only works on others with the gift… he said that if I could hear him, then I must be gifted too. We practiced a little in the pub. I stayed with him for hours, even after my friends left. It was fun. He took me home and even after he’d gone, I could still hear him talking to me. I could answer him. It was thrilling. But it was sweet, too; he whispered nursery rhymes to me as I fell asleep.”

“Did you ever see him again?” Dean had asked, intrigued.

“Yes, I saw him the next night. We had dinner. He told me that once I’d practiced up a little, I’d be able to call out to others like me… find them with my thoughts. I started trying it that night. I didn’t find anyone, but I kept practicing. We were supposed to see each other again. We were going to meet… but… I never got there. That’s when I was taken. I panicked when I was dragged into the van. I struggled and I screamed, but I don’t think I put up much of a fight.”

Dean had seen her posture stiffen as the memory took her to a bad place. Again, he watched his brother reassure her with his strong arms. Not wanting to pressure her, he kept silent despite the urge to know more. Eventually, with Sam’s support, she began speaking again.

“Once I calmed down a little, I realized that my friend was waiting for me and that I could call to him with my mind. I tried and tried from the floor of that van,” she said dejectedly, “but he never answered. I have no idea what even happened to him.”

“This guy have a name?” Dean asked.

“Eric.”

“You were supposed to meet him, and he never showed up?”

“Actually, I was the one who never showed up.”

“But wait,” he pressed, “All that time, he was sweet talkin to you, right? He kept you up nights tellin’ you sweet stories in your head. But when you get dragged away in a van kicking and screaming, suddenly he doesn’t answer you?”

Sarah’s face was ghost white as she pondered his words. Her eyes reflected contemplation as he pressured her.

“Has it occurred to you that maybe this Eric set you up?” he finally said, glancing at Sam.

“I – I don’t think so. I mean, why would he, right?” she asked softly. “He could have just taken me himself if he wanted to. He was alone with me. More than once. I was vulnerable with him. It makes more sense to assume that he was taken too.”

Everyone was silent after that.

 

 

 

 

Cas laid still, listening to the sounds of heavy rain on the roof of their little cabin. A few feet away, drips plopped heavily into a large pan on the floor. There were several leaks around the cabin, and each had a container under it to catch the deluge when it rained like this.

“Soon it’ll be snow,” whispered Dean, warm beside him under the covers.

“I think I will enjoy that,” he answered, shifting a little under the weight of his friend’s arm.

During the time they’d been sharing the cabin, Cas had found contentment here. He’d learned to trust Dean’s brother and Sarah. And this place was preferable to Dean’s dwelling in Kansas City. It was pleasant here, surrounded by nature. Additionally, having Sam and Sarah around had turned out to be far more enjoyable than he’d expected. In fact, it was fun.

He felt very connected to Sarah and though she wasn’t a Bright, her kindness came through with every smile and every word. She was strong too… far more than Cas had initially given her credit for. The uneasy feeling that permeated him when Sam was nearby still presented itself once in awhile, but he’d come to accept that Sam was an anomaly. It was impossible to ignore his good qualities, and the more time he spent in the company of Dean’s brother the more he warmed to him.

Tessa’s journey to full darkness had been quick. By comparison, Sam’s was slow. The darkness in him stayed relatively small. If it had grown since they’d met, the change was indiscernible. For now, the issue had fallen to the back of his mind, and he rarely thought of it at all.

Cas had been lingering on the edge of sleep for a while now. Beside him, Dean had fallen asleep and was now snoring softly. But earlier, at the onset of the storm, they’d had their mouths on each other. It had been thrilling to be sexual while the electric current of the storm churned in the air around them.

The dark of their small space had flashed bright white with each strike of lightning, bathing them in daylight for the beat of a heart. It was exhilarating to lay in the pitch black, not seeing, just feeling as he sucked on Dean’s cock. Sweaty in the dark, Dean’s head had lingered between his thighs too – both of them tasting one another at the same time.

To be deprived of visual input had seemed to heighten Cas’ remaining senses… ears attuned to every salacious noise their bodies made as they pleasured one another, skin buzzing with every touch, mouth tasting salty skin, nose deeply inhaling the thick scents that churned between them in their bed.

Then, with a snap, there would be startling clarity as a strobe of white light flashed in through the tiny windows and lit up the space. With each burst of light, he’d see the fleshly embodiment of the lewd imaginings that slithered through his mind. Every time it happened, he’d drink in the erotic sight of their writhing bodies and then be plunged into darkness again… left with a jarring memory of what they looked like as they pleasured each other.

Even now, with his body loose from release, those images played through his mind. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he was awakened by a garbled shout.

The sound of it brought both him and his sleeping companion straight up out of bed. Two sets of bare feet hit the floor and started moving to the ladder, fearful for the couple downstairs. Dean was calling out as he hopped into discarded pants, “Sammy? You okay?”

Following Dean’s lead, Cas pulled his pants from the floor and jerked them up before he scurried down the ladder. When he’d reached the ground level, he could see Sarah emerging from the bedroom. She was pulling one of Sam’s flannel shirts on over her tank top as she stepped out into the main area.

“I’m just getting him some water,” she said as she passed them. “He’s had a dream.”

“Is he coming out?” Dean asked.

“I think so,” she answered, nodding at Cas in acknowledgment as she passed by him.

“I’ll put on some coffee,” he said in answer.

From the kitchen, Cas watched as everyone huddled over Sam’s journal while he scribbled furiously. Bringing coffee for them, Cas settled on the arm of the couch next to Dean.

When Sam’s urgent pencil slowed and began retracing lines, he started speaking. He told them that he’d seen a girl in his dreams… a blonde with long straight hair. She’d been getting into a car when hands came out of the dark from behind her to cover her mouth and nose.

“I saw her eyes get wide as she realized what was happening,” said Sam brokenly, “and then I woke up.”

“You get a fix on the license plates? Even the state?”

“No, but the car was a Pinto. Olive green. Rusty.”

“Well, that’s a start,” said Dean. “I say we head to town tomorrow, do a little DMV digging. If you see more… try to get a fix on the plates. It’s the best shot we’ve got to ID this girl fast.”

Sam nodded and slouched into the couch. Sarah stroked her fingers through his hair. Dean stoked the fire and patted his brother on the shoulder as he walked past.

“We’re goin back to bed,” said Dean, looking at Cas. Dean’s body language indicated he’d like Cas to follow him. They climbed the ladder back up to the loft and when they reached the top, Dean whispered, “He’ll probably be more relaxed if we’re not all crowded around him.”

Cas nodded his understanding and crawled back into bed. Outside it was still raining but the onslaught of wind and rain had passed, taking the thunder and lightning with it. All that was left now was the constant sound of light rain on the roof.

In the morning, the pans under the leaks were all full. Dean went around emptying them all while Cas started working on breakfast. Sam and Sarah were both quiet when they woke.

Lingering over breakfast, they discussed the scenery in the dream as they tried to narrow down what region of the country this girl lived in. Sadly, there was nothing indicative of a certain region. No palm trees or cacti to get them focusing on the south, no snow indicating the extreme north or even the familiar skyline of a notable city. Just a rusty green Pinto. Sam was visibly frustrated, and Cas couldn’t help but pat him on the back… a reassuring gesture he’d seen Dean do countless times.

The day passed, brothers heading for town to research the green Pinto. Their efforts were in vain, and both were irritable when they returned. Eventually the day came to its close. It was the deep part of the night when Sam’s shouting woke them again.

Much like the previous night, he and Dean leapt to attention when they heard it. They threw on clothes and headed downstairs.

“Sammy, what did you see?” Dean was asking as Cas reached the bottom of the ladder.

“Washington,” he answered firmly, “Washington state plates. She’s got Washington plates, Dean.”

“Well alright,” said Dean. Cas watched as Dean turned to him and said, “Pack up our bags. I’ll help Sammy load the car.”

With that said, everyone was moving. As he pounded up the ladder to get his and Dean’s duffel bags, Sarah ran to the bedroom to do the same for her and Sam. Loading didn’t take long, and soon they were following the dark trail away from the cabin and towards the road. There was an arsenal in the trunk with their bags and a cooler on the floor of the backseat between Sam and Sarah.

Sadly, there was no highway they could get on and just “head west.” They were in the middle of the Rocky Mountain Range. Heading west involved a zigzag of epic proportions. They spent just as much time traveling either north or south as they did moving west. It was slow progress.

The sun came up, a brilliant pink coloring in the sky behind them. But it wasn’t until much later in the morning that Dean pulled into the parking lot of a rundown diner in Newport. It was a quaint little town just across the state line.

Now that they were in the right state, they had no idea what to do next. Sam had been flipping thoughtfully through his journal since the sun came up but still had no idea where in Washington they needed to go.

“May as well get somethin’ to eat,” Dean said as he pulled into a parking space.

Cas was dying to get out of the car for a while. He stretched his limbs as they walked to the door of the restaurant. Based on the building’s exterior, he’d expected this diner to be dilapidated. But it was surprisingly nice inside, the booths in good condition and each table decorated with fall flowers and gourds. They settled near the back, Dean and Cas taking a seat that gave them a good view of the door.

The waitress was prompt to greet them and fill their coffee cups. Cas hadn’t even felt hungry when Dean had stopped here. But, when he entered, the scent of coffee and bacon frying had teased his stomach into growling with anticipation.

Sarah had been just as quiet and contemplative as Sam. Cas couldn’t help but watch her as she cradled her head in her hands. In this position, her hair fell around her face and hid it from view. But, when the waitress set their plates down, she looked up and smiled a thank you.

“Any luck?” Sam whispered to her.

“No,” she answered softly as she pushed up the sleeves of her oversized shirt. The girl looked so small wearing Sam’s giant flannels. But, it was obvious she loved them.

“Luck with what?” asked Dean from beside him.

“She’s been calling out in her head. She’s got no name or face, but she’s trying anyway.”

“What are you saying to her?” Cas asked, curious.

“I just keep picturing a blonde in a green Pinto and repeating, ‘Look at your license plate.’ I thought it was working when Sam got a glimpse of the plate in his dream. But I’ve been at it all this time and… nothing. It must have been a coincidence.”

Cas wanted to reassure her, but he had no idea what to say. Talking to people had never been his strong suit. Instead of trying to speak words, he tried nodding to her in encouragement. He’d often seen Dean make the gesture to Sam, and it seemed to be understood between them. She nodded back to him in response, and he hoped it meant she’d understood his sentiment. Then, perhaps to break the tension at the table, she looked at Dean and cracked an antagonistic smile.

“What is that?” she asked him, tipping her head towards Dean’s heaping plate.

“The Widow-maker,” he answered her, cracking a smart ass grin.

To Cas, Dean’s plate looked tasty – a giant slice of ham with bacon and sausage piled on top. Next to that was a pile of hash browns covered in cheese, and a huge helping of biscuits and gravy completed the platter. Dean looked happy as he dug into his food. Sam and Sarah exchanged a smile too as they began eating the more-healthy meals they’d ordered.

Cas looked at Dean’s plate a few times as he ate. As good as waffles with fruit had sounded when he ordered, the meat on Dean’s plate was making his mouth water. The table was quiet for a while as they all ate.

Once, Sam stopped chewing and leaned forward. He closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. The entire table stopped eating and waited, everyone holding their breath, hopeful that he was having a vision that would give them direction. But when he opened his eyes and looked around, he shook his head dejectedly and the group resumed eating.

The waitress checked on them, refilling coffees and leaving behind the check. Cas pushed around the last of his waffles. They were pink now, having soaked up all the berry juice. The whipped cream, once fluffy, had now melted down into a milky white glaze on top. Not only was his stomach full, but now that he’d eaten so much, the sweetness of the dish was almost sickening to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cas watched Dean’s hand snake over and drop a large cut of ham to his plate. His mouth watered as he looked at it, and he smiled as he cut into it. Dean wasn’t looking at him, so he didn’t waste his time trying to acknowledge the gift. His friend was a complicated man, doing kind things all the time but not wanting to be thanked for it.

As he gratefully cut and ate his ham, his body flooded with affection for his Bright. They paid and left, none of them happy about getting back in the car when they had no destination. At Dean’s suggestion they continued to head southwest on highway 2. After all, the most populated areas of Washington were still to the west of them. It was a safe bet that they were still headed in the right direction.

The sky was overcast and gloomy as they traveled. With his body short on sleep and his stomach full, drowsiness set in. He buttressed his elbow on the door of the car where it met the passenger window and leaned against the glass. With his heavy head resting on his palm, Cas found his eyes drifting closed.

When a forceful voice pulled him from the soft nothingness of sleep, he lifted his head and opened his eyes.

“North Seattle Community College!” Sam was repeating.

Cas turned to face Sam in the backseat.

“It was hanging from her rear view mirror,” he explained, their eyes connecting over the bench seatback.

“Is that where she was taken from?” asked Cas.

“I’m not sure that’s the site of the abduction,” countered Sam, “only that she must be a student there. She had a lanyard looped around her rear view mirror, and it said North Seattle Community College on it. Dean,” he said, turning to look at his brother, “get us to Seattle.”

 

 

 

Sam looked around, eyes frantically searching the dark. He could see nothing. But he could feel the gentle roll and soft vibration of a moving vehicle. His limbs were uncomfortable, but when he attempted to straighten them he met resistance. Immediately his mind started racing as he realized he was bound. Panic surged through his body, and his breaths came faster.

As he struggled, the only movement he could manage was to turn his head. When he did, he saw light. It was a dim and tawny orange, but it was light. He let his eyes adjust to it and as he did, the startling realization that his mouth was taped shut added to his fear; doubled it. He worked to gulp in panicked breaths without being able to open his mouth.

The faint light, he could now see, was coming from a dashboard. The instrument panel couldn’t be seen from this vantage, but the light it emitted was enough input to deduce his surroundings more accurately. Yes, he was in a vehicle. It was a van. He could see a sliver of the driver between the front seats. It was a man with straight blonde hair… a bit long but well groomed. As Sam watched, the man raised a hand to it, tucking a stray lock behind his ear.

There were no windows in this van, with the exception of those in front. It was startlingly familiar to the van that Sarah had been abducted in; the one he’d been driving when he’d had a machine gun fired at him for the first time. Because he was bound into this position, he couldn’t turn his head far enough to see what was behind him in the van.

Returning his attention to the driver, he was stunned to see a sign whoosh by the darkened windshield, only a glimpse of it visible as the van rocketed past it. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, this seemed important to him. So, he began to watch the windshield with intense focus. It went by so fast, he almost didn’t make it out. But the glow of the reflective lettering in high-beam headlights etched itself into his brain.

Then, with the blink of an eye, it was daylight. Blinking as he looked around, he realized he was in the backseat of his brother’s Impala. Relief surged through him as he moved his limbs and breathed through his mouth. A gentle hand fell on his shoulder and pulled his attention to the concerned face that was fixated on him. Sarah. Her eyes were wide and dark as she whispered, “Are you alright?”

“Exit 53, East Summit,” he said firmly, wanting to get the words verbalized before they evaporated with other sharp details from his vision.

Beside him, Sarah was fumbling to pull out his journal. In the front seat, Dean was slowing the car and pulling over. Cas was watching Dean.

“Exit 53, East Summit,” he said again, committing it to memory as Sarah began adding the words to his journal. She handed him the pencil and book, and he took it. As Dean came to a stop, Sam put his pencil to the paper and drew a square, fitting the words into it. Once he’d re-created the sign from his dream, he began jotting down the details he could recall. Night time. Van. Orange dash lights. Male driver. Long blonde hair. Bound hands and feet. Tape over mouth.

Around him the air was growing thick. He knew that everyone was waiting on him to speak. But that was secondary. He had to get all he could remember down on paper first. Then he could speak.

“Where are we?” he asked as he finished listing all the details he could remember.

“South of Spokane,” Dean answered from the front seat. “Exit 53?” Dean asked him, “As in, an exit number from an interstate?”

“Yeah. Exit 53, East Summit.” That’s what the sign said.

There was a flurry of activity in the front seat then as his brother and Cas began pulling the map out of the glovebox to study it.

“There’s only a couple interstates running through Washington,” said Dean, “Cas, you start by checking 90 and I’ll check 5.”

“What am I looking for, Dean?” he heard Cas whisper.

“Find exit 53 on 90 and see if it’s near a mountain.”

The car was silent for a few moments. Sam continued to sketch and tried to keep his mind open just in case any other details came flooding back to him.

From the front he heard Dean again, “Interstate 5 doesn’t have an exit 53, just a 52 and a 57.”

“It’s 90 Dean,” said Cas firmly, “Exit 53 is for the summit at Snoqualmie.”

“Check the others, just to be sure,” countered Dean gruffly.

Suddenly, it was impossible to sketch. Dean had hit the gas and they were accelerating back onto the highway. Sam closed the journal and shut his eyes, letting his head tip back against the seat. He tried to return to the dream, but the version of it that his waking mind could construct was off, different. It lacked detail and the harshness of reality.

Sarah’s hand was closing over his, squeezing. He squeezed back, wanting to reassure her that he was okay. From the front, he heard Dean and Cas plotting the route.

“How far are we?” he asked them, without opening his eyes.

“Looks like about 300 miles,” answered Dean.

“Six hours?” he questioned.

“About that, yeah,” confirmed Dean. “You got any idea the time?”

“Just that it was dark. This time of year it stays dark for what, ten hours?  That’s probably our time window.”

“Hey,” laughed his brother, “it’s been a long time since we had a stakeout.”

Sam tried not to chuckle at his brother, but it was impossible. Opening his eyes for a moment, he rolled his head on the seat so he could smile at Sarah. She smiled back; so beautiful.

 

 

 

Cas offered to take over driving when they stopped for gas, but Dean found it impossible to relinquish the driver’s seat with his adrenaline pumping like it was. They’d been driving for hours now with no new insights from Sam. But during that time, they’d discussed the situation in great detail.

Why, Dean wondered, would someone kidnap a girl in Seattle and then drive her into the Rocky Mountains? 

They had more questions than answers at this point, but one thing was certain. They had a time window where they knew with reasonable certainty that a windowless van was going to pass by exit 53 on Interstate 90 with a girl bound inside it. The basis for their plan was simple. Just sit there and wait, watch.

As far as Dean was concerned, the traffic on the mountain pass is likely confined to three basic groups of people: the residents, the tourists and the supply companies. It’s hard to imagine a tourist family renting a windowless van to see the sights. It also seems unlikely that a resident would own one. Windowless vans are driven primarily by service technicians and delivery men. _And rapists_ , he thinks to himself with a dark chuckle.

So, their plan to stake out the exit and follow any windowless van that comes through without a company logo on it seems sound. Unfortunately, their only basis for omitting company vehicles from their suspect list is Sam’s assertion that the van in his vision was similar to the van that Sarah had been kidnapped in. Sam hasn’t seen the exterior of the van with his own eyes… they’re all guessing at its appearance. The van could be old or new, white or purple, and it _could_ have a logo on it. If the vehicle does have a logo and they wrongly let it pass, they’ll miss their window and lose their chance to rescue this girl.

Getting on 90 was a bit nerve wracking too. They’d been avoiding interstates and high traffic roads for so long that he felt vulnerable as he guided his Baby up the ramp. Luckily they were undisturbed, riding along smoothly with traffic and making good time for once.

When they arrived at exit 53, they found that it had two ramps. They slowed as they drove past, getting the lay of the land. It was late afternoon, and the sun was sinking as they looped between the two exits several more times. With an eye for the best view of westbound traffic, Dean fielded suggestions from his passengers before deciding on the best spot.

The four got out, then, moving to the trunk to arm themselves before settling in for the long night ahead.  Now, sitting idle, Dean finds his weapon heavier than he remembered. It’s been weeks since he even held it, life in their little cabin being quiet and simple.

They watch the road and its passing cars carefully, but it’s impossible to stay vigilant for long. Watching vehicles slice through the darkness had a similar effect to watching a metronome tick back and forth. The addition of rain pelting their windows in the second hour didn’t make it any easier. By the third hour they had agreed to take turns. Two at a time watched for the van while the other two rested their eyes. They would swap back and forth every half hour to always keep fresh eyes on the lookout. This went on for hours. He’s resting with his head tipped against his window when Dean hears his name barked roughly.

Snapping to attention, he puts one hand on the ignition and the other on the wheel.

“Go?” he shouts.

“Yes!” Sam and Sarah holler in unison.

Without hesitation, he abandons their hiding place and hammers the gas pedal. The car fishtails as it tries to gain traction on wet grass. He leaves his lights extinguished as he navigates out onto the interstate. There’s no other cars on the road, and the red tail lights of a cargo van are far ahead.

“Follow or intercept?” he asks, glancing over at Cas in the dark.

“I think we should follow for as long as possible,” Cas answered.

“What do you think, Sammy?” he asked, wanting to know what his brother thought was best.

“Well, I don’t want to make her wait…,” his brother answered. “But I also want to get an idea of where he’s taking her. Don’t you?”

The car got quiet after that. They followed for hours and hours. When another car encroached on them, they were forced to turn on the headlights. But Dean hung far back from their target, hopefully not being noticed. The van made no stops. It did, however, exit I-90 in favor of I-82 at Ellensburg, so they were headed south as the sun came up. With daylight came an increase in traffic. At least the other cars helped to camouflage them.

“We’re gonna need gas soon,” Dean ventured to the group when they merged onto Interstate 84 from 82.

“So is he, Dean,” answered Sam from the back.

“This road,” said Cas, looking at the map intently, “it heads southeast all the way to Salt Lake City.”

“What do you think, Sammy?”

“I vote we keep following. There’s not much we can do in broad daylight, Dean.”

“If he gets off for gas,” he warned them all, “we have to get off with him. We’ll be made.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” answered Sam firmly.

He nodded, starting to feel uneasy about things. After all, he wasn’t nearly as certain as his brother was that they even had the right van. He’d give anything to just peek inside and get a visual on the girl.

It was in Pendleton, Oregon, that they finally followed the van down an exit ramp. Dean was more relieved than he’d let on. The little red needle on his gas gage was dangerously low. Once they’d exited, Dean dropped his speed and worked to stay far behind the van. Consequently, it was at the pump already when they pulled in. Dean chose a pump closer to the station, giving the van a wide berth and allowing another vehicle to obstruct his view for the sake of cover.

“You fill it,” Dean said to Sam as they all exited the car. As Sam headed for the rear of the car to pump gas, Sarah bolted for the bathroom. Dean felt bad for her, he knew she wouldn’t want to jeopardize their timing. But when you’ve been holding it all night and half the morning, there was no choice. She couldn’t piss in a bottle like they could.

He knew they didn’t have much time here, so he had to move fast. No way would a man with a kidnap victim in his van go into the gas station and leave his prize unattended. This man would pay at the pump and waste no time getting back on the road. Needing a reason to walk nearer to the van, he plucked some trash from the backseat and ambled over to the trashcan that stood nearest his target.

Cas had fallen in beside him as he walked. With a tip of his head he leaned in and told Cas to walk left and retrieve the squeegee from the plastic container bolted to a post under the guise of washing their windshield. It was strategic. He’d have a view to the rear of the van and Cas would be seeing the front. There was a high probability that with the aid of a little distraction for the driver, Cas would have the window of time needed to look inside the van undetected. With this in mind, Dean changed his course and made to verbally engage the driver. As he approached, he noted that the driver was indeed blonde. So far so good. He worked on what he could say to distract the man… perhaps something along the lines of “That’s a nice van… does it go over well with the ladies?”

The thought made him chuckle despite the seriousness of the situation.

His eyes were locked on a trash can near the rear of the vehicle, and he walked slowly towards it, prepared to assume the personality of a fellow traveler and engage the suspect as he dropped his trash in the can. He was stopped though, mid stride, by his name being shouted.

Hating to divide his attention, Dean turned towards the sound of Sammy who’d yelled at him. Clearly, his brother was protecting their anonymity when he hollered, “Do you want a Coke?”

It was a good cover, common dialog for people gassing up at a convenience store. But it wasn’t the words that mattered. It was the body language. Dean recognized his brother’s intended message. Abort.

He turned immediately and headed back toward the car, covertly glancing over his shoulder twice to check behind him as he did. When he saw that Cas had also gotten the message and was returning, he picked up his pace and dropped his trash into a much closer can. Sarah was farther from Sam than Dean was used to seeing her. She was standing near the door of convenience store with the driver of the van directly in her line of sight. Her panic was clear.

Dean now realized what must’ve happened. She’d seen danger and used her mind link to warn Sam. His brother had taken action by calling out to Dean and getting him and Cas to come back towards them. The four all worked to be discreet as they converged at the rear of the car where Sam was still dispensing gas… or acting like he was. Dean couldn’t be sure. The group pulled in tightly to speak amongst themselves.

Sam leveled his gaze at Dean and said, “She’s in there. No need to look.”

“What did you see?” Dean asked, turning his attention to Sarah. She was white as a ghost and her hand was gripping Sam’s coat sleeve like a lifeline.

“What?” Dean asked her again.

Her chocolate eyes reflected absolute terror as she said, “That’s Eric.”

 

 

 

Cas watched as Dean turned to get back in the driver’s seat. He’d offered to drive several times, but Dean wouldn’t hear of it.

“Tell me when he’s moving,” said Dean as he started up the Impala and navigated out of the filling station. The car was rolling out slowly, but not suspiciously so. Understanding Dean’s actions, Cas kept his eye on the van. By leaving ahead of it, they’d be less suspicious to Eric.

“He’s moving,” he told Dean as the van started pulling out.

“Look inconspicuous,” Dean ordered.

Cas, understanding that they had to let the van pass them, dug into the glove box. He grabbed the map and passed it Sarah in the back seat.

“Here,” he told her, “you and Sam pretend to be reading that. Don’t let your faces be seen.”

She nodded and the two of them spread the massive paper between them. In his side mirror, Cas watched the van gaining on them as Dean held their speed down to about 45. As it closed in on them, he leaned forward and pretended to be digging for something in the glove box, keeping his head down until the van was well past them.

“Alright 007,” Dean laughed, thumping him on the shoulder, “you can sit back now.”

Leaning back in his seat, Cas watched as the cargo van sped farther ahead of them and put on its signal. They followed, still in no hurry, letting the van get far ahead before Dean adjusted to pace its speed.

“Alright,” Dean said, addressing the group, “What’s our plan?”

“Find out where he goes,” answered Sam.

From the backseat, Sarah offered no counter.

“We can only stay with him for so long, Sam. Sooner or later, he’ll notice us.”

“Well, I think I know where he’s going,” Cas told Dean, “And if he takes I-80 at Salt Lake City, we can be reasonably sure I’m right.”

“Where’s he going?” Dean asked, appearing genuinely interested in his theory.

“Fulton,” he said, turning to look at Dean. “He’s taking her to Fulton.”

 

 

 

The car was quiet once the town of Fulton, Missouri, was mentioned. A slow creeping dread worked its way up her spine as Sarah realized that Cas was right. This girl wasn’t just kidnapped by a garden variety rapist or killer. She probably had the gift and had been primed by Eric much like she was, and then taken by him. This girl was being driven to the same place she’d been held. And, this poor girl was going to meet Alistair.

“We have to get her,” she said out loud, not just to Sam but to everyone in the car. “We have to get her now.”

She glanced briefly at Sam, and when their eyes connected, she knew he agreed. Her attention shifted back to the front seat, waiting to hear what Dean and Cas would say. The two of them were very connected, she’d noticed. Oftentimes they seemed to be holding a conversation just with their eyes. Both were very intuitive of the other as well, often facilitating actions for the other without even being asked.

There had been many examples of this dynamic over the past few weeks. She’d see Dean sitting on the rug in front of the fire… he’d glance at the whiskey bottle and then back at the fire. A moment later, Cas would grab the bottle, take a sip and pass it to Dean. It happened like that all the time with these two men, effortlessly.

Now, she watched their profiles as they began speaking.

“We have to wait for dark,” Dean said, looking over at Cas.

“Agreed.”

“We know he’s alone. Let’s just pull up beside him and take a shot.”

“You know how I feel about using guns.”

“C’mon Cas, make an exception. You’ve done it before.”

“I’d prefer to force an accident, then move in on the van.”

Sarah turned to Sam and asked, “Is she buckled in?”

“No,” he answered.

She looked at him imploringly and watched him lean forward, rest his arms on the bench seat and speak to his brother and Cas. He told them he didn’t like the idea of forcing a crash when the girl in back was both bound and not wearing a safety harness.

After much deliberation, they managed to work out the loose version of a plan. Sarah could think of nothing better, so she leaned back in her seat and let the issue rest. Their plan was to wait for the cover of night, and that was hours away. She had time. She decided to think through their strategy again and again to come up with as many scenarios as possible… all the different things that could go wrong. Busying her mind with that, she made a game of trying to figure out how to counter each possible problem.

Sarah had never even fired a gun before. But now, with one heavy in her jacket pocket, she didn’t doubt her ability to use it. She may not hit her target since she lacked skill. But she didn’t question her ability to take aim at Eric and shoot to kill. She’d die before she let Eric take this girl to Alistair.

 

 

 

 

Hours ticked by, the scenery changing as they drove. Sam had been loving the scenery, despite the undesirable nature of their trip. He’d watched out the windows as the majestic mountains of Washington fell away to foothills and then leveled out into plains. The land had been flat as a pancake for a while in southern Washington and northern Oregon. Then, after their stop in Pendleton, foothills had started rising up around them again and as they continued down I-84. Sometimes they could look out over the plains and see white, snowcapped mountains - purple and hazy in the distance. At other times, the distant peaks were obscured by the swells of bluffs around them. The ever-changing scenery was marvelous, but the thing that held his attention above all else, was the back of the white cargo van they followed.

It was evening when they found themselves approaching Salt Lake City. The van stayed on 84 as the road curved around, skirting the city to the north. As they approached the junction with I-80, the van exited and Dean followed it in the Impala.

This was clearly a gas stop. There wouldn’t be another for a very long time. He knew Dean was going to want to enact their plan, which was to be enacted when the vehicles were stopping to fuel up. Worried, he leaned forward and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“It’s not dark yet,” he said. “We can’t take him. And we’re gonna be made. There’s no way he’s going to dismiss seeing our same car at both his gas stops.”

“Relax, Sammy,” Dean gruffed at him. “I’m hangin’ way back.”

“You need gas, Dean; we can’t just wait for him. We have to get fuel.”

“I think,” said his brother, looking over at Cas, “That we should make a go of it now.”

“Now?” Sam repeated, stunned that Dean would even consider such reckless action.

“Yeah. Why not, Sammy? I mean look at this one-horse town. In the time it takes for the police to respond to a call, we’ll be long gone.”

“I don’t think we should deviate from the plan, Dean. It’s flimsy enough as it is.”

“Cas, whatcha think?” questioned Dean as they eased along the squat streets, the van they tailed still several intersections ahead.

“Is there even a gas station in this town?” responded Cas. “Or is he heading somewhere else?”

Sarah pressed in beside him and whispered, “Where are we?”

“A little town called Henefer,” he answered her. Then he returned his attention to the front seat as he rested his hand on the small of her back. “Cas, how far are we from the junction of I-80?”

“About five miles.”

“What do ya think, Cas, go for it?” pressed his brother from the driver’s seat.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but then waited. He honestly wondered what Cas would say. The man was usually pretty quiet, opening up only to Dean. But by the way Dean was looking at Cas, it was clear that Cas was going to decide this. Whatever Cas said, Dean would listen.

“Let’s do it.”

Dean nodded and thumped his palm on the wheel. Sam looked to the rear view mirror and watched his brother glance back at him.

“You ready to do this, Sammy?”

More than anything, he wanted to say no. He wanted to argue with his brother, tell him to wait. But as the youngest he was already the vote that counted least, and he knew it. Dean and Cas were acting as a team, and they would outvote him no matter what. So, rather than argue, he nodded reluctant agreement and chose to spend the next few seconds wisely. He pulled Sarah close and whispered in her ear.

“I love that you’re the kind of person who will do this with us. Please, don’t take any chances. Stay close to me.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and let his eyes return to the road ahead of them.

Through the windshield, between the heads of his brother and Cas, he saw the van turn off.

“The ramp is the drop,” Dean said roughly as he hit the gas. They tore down the street to close the distance now that they didn’t need to hide anymore. They’d already traveled a half mile through this town to reach what must be its only gas station. And now, it was go time.

“You’ve got the knife?” he asked his girl. When she nodded a yes, he wracked his brain for anything else he needed to tell her. He could think of nothing.

“Safety’s off,” barked Dean as he approached the gas station, all but its sign obscured behind a line of trees.

As he and Sarah pulled their weapons, Sam leaned over to help her get hers ready. “Keep your finger off the trigger,” he told her. “Your finger goes to the trigger when you raise the gun to take aim, not before.”

She nodded understanding, but her innocent eyes were wide with fear. Dean slowed the car and as he did, Cas leapt from it. Sam watched him, agile and quick, as he streaked over the sidewalk and slid deftly into hiding within the tree line.

As Dean accelerated again, the gas station came into view. The van was at an outside pump, farthest from the attendant, with the nozzle stretched to the gas tank but no driver visible anywhere. There was one other vehicle out front, but it was empty. Its passengers were likely inside, purchasing snacks or using the restroom.

“Go, go go!” shouted Dean as he slowed to a crawl again. The van was on their right a few dozen yards away, perfectly positioned between the store and the Impala. If, thought Sam, the driver had been in the store, he’d not have been able to see it them getting out of the car and approaching the van. But, Sam had yet to see the driver make an appearance. He might also be inside the van, checking his cargo.

The moment his feet hit pavement, Sam was running. He immediately pulled his weapon up in front of him as he ran, pulling Sarah along behind him. They headed straight for the driver’s side door of the van with Sam in the lead. He knew that Dean had hit the gas the moment Sarah was clear of the car and resumed heading north on Main. They were on their own now, Cas as their only backup.

With his weapon trained ahead of him, he approached the van and threw open door. But, as he lifted his gun to allow for the door to swing open, he was blindsided by a force that knocked the gun right out of his hand. His teeth rattled in his skull and his eyes involuntarily closed as his head was snapped back. Before he could even react, he was being spun. His back was pinned against the side of the van, and on his left Sarah let out noise of surprise. He’d lost the pistol so easily it was staggering. He didn’t need to look over at his companion to recognize the sound of her weapon clattering to the ground and skittering away from them.

Under his chin, Eric’s arm was bearing down on Sam’s windpipe, and he could barely draw breath. In his face was the business end of the scariest revolver on the planet, a Smith and Wesson .500. Sam knew that this handgun would take down an angry grizzly. To an 18-year-old boy and doe-eyed girl who’d never even held a gun before? It was a sight to loosen bowels.

“Well, hello Sarah,” their adversary purred, his icy blue eyes locked on her with thinly disguised contempt. More than anything else, at this moment, Sam wanted to be her protector. His heart split in two as he realized he’d failed her. He’d brought her face to face with the enemy and then failed her completely.

He forced himself to look at the man who had easily bested him. Then, like a flash, there were hands slicing through the air next to that cold and calloused face. There was no time to react, not even to close his eyes or mouth as a splatter of thick, hot blood covered their faces.

Sam gasped as he felt relief… his attacker’s weight coming off his throat. He pulled in a deep breath as he brought his arm to his face to wipe the blood away on his sleeve and open his eyes. The first thing he did was look over at Sarah. Her mouth was agape and she was stiff as a board, not even moving to clear the blood that covered her face. Clearly her brain was not keeping up with what had happened… that Cas had stepped up behind Eric and sliced his neck with the piano wire he always carried.

Glancing to the ground, he saw Eric in a bloody heap, head connected to body by nothing but bone. It dangled disturbingly off his twisted shoulder, and blood was still pumping from his jugular onto the cement at their feet.

“Thanks,” he said to Cas as he turned to wipe Sarah’s face.

“You’re welcome, Sam.”

When he’d cleaned Sarah’s face enough for her to open her eyes, they locked on him. He could see the gears turning in her head… her mind racing to catch up.

“Get moving,” he heard Cas croak from beside him. “This changes nothing.”

Sam nodded, picked up their guns from the ground and took Sarah by the arm. He again aimed his weapon ahead of him. This time, the door was already open. He hoisted himself up into the driver’s seat and checked the back to be sure there was no one else waiting to spring on them.

He could see legs, bound with duct tape, and knew it was their girl. But it wasn’t his job to tend to her. He stepped back down and used his free hand to help Sarah up into the van as his eyes met Cas’ over her shoulder.

He waited for Cas to climb in too, then got back up into the driver’s seat. To his right Cas was turned to look out the passenger side window… making sure no one approached them from the other side.

“All clear,” he said in his usual gravelly voice as Sam hit the gas.

When he exited the station, he braked for a second to allow a car on the road to pass, then he hauled ass out onto Main Street.

He watched the filling station as he drove away from it, but saw no one running out. Since all the bloody action had taken place on the street side of the van, rather than on the side visible through the gas station windows, it was likely that no one had even noticed what had happened.

Until someone stepped outside and saw the bloody body in a pile next to the pump, it was unlikely that there would even be a call to the cops. After all, at their last stop, Eric had paid at the pump. They probably hadn’t even stolen gas when they’d driven off.

Returning his attention to the road in front of him, he called out for Sarah, “You alright back there?”

“Fine,” she called. “It’s not easy to get her undone when you’re moving.”

Cas was silent next to him, alert and watching the road behind them.

 “C’mon, baby, get her loose,” he encouraged. “We’re almost to the ramp.”

“Give me your weapon, Sam,” said Cas as they approached the ramp to enter I-84.

He handed it over willingly, knowing that Cas was meant to be their cover as they changed vehicles. The Impala was waiting for them, idling on the shoulder of the ramp with its hazards on. From behind him, he could hear Sarah whispering to the victim they’d just rescued.

“You girls ready?” he asked, slowing for the turn at the bottom of the ramp.

“Yes,” said Sarah, coming to stand in between his seat and Cas’. He stopped completely then, putting the vehicle in park and getting out. Once on the ground he turned to help his lady down, and then the new girl. Cas was sliding into the driver’s seat as they stepped away from the van and began walking toward Dean’s car.

When they reached Dean, Cas had put the van in gear and hit the gas. There were no other cars on the ramp with them and Sam watched intently as the van accelerated up the ramp, bouncing along on the uneven ground with two wheels on the shoulder and two wheels in the tall brown grass. He saw the driver’s door swing open and Cas leap out, tumbling into a somersault as he landed. The van slowed without its driver and veered to the right. As the ground sloped away beneath it, the van met its tipping point and began to tumble sideways down the embankment. The coast was still clear when it came to rest at the bottom.

They’d been alone on the ramp, but above them and to the left, cars roared down the interstate. Perhaps someone saw the van rolling and called in the crash. Perhaps not.

Back at the gas station, any witnesses were now waiting on the cops to show. They’d give their statements about a white van paying at the pump and then peeling out… leaving a dead body behind.

Later, police would find the van, crashed at the bottom of the embankment. They’d work over the van, looking for clues as to the identity of the driver and if they found anything, it wouldn’t lead them to the Winchesters.

Dean, as driver of the getaway car, let out a whoop when they merged into southbound traffic. Sam watched Dean give Cas an appraising look and say, “You know what, Cas, you’re awesome.”

Then he looked over at the girls crowded into the seat next to him. Their rescued charge wasn’t acting like he’d expected. There were no tears… no hugs… no gratitude. She looked at him with disdain. Wondering if he was making her uncomfortable, he focused on Sarah. She peeled off her gloves and handed them to him. Then she fished into her back pocket and pulled out the knife. He’d given it to her so she’d be able to quickly free the girl from her restraints as they drove through town, and now she was handing it back to him, obviously not wanting to continue carrying it.

Despite his intentions of not making the girl uncomfortable by staring at her, he found his eyes flashing to her again and again. He was curious about her. But every time his eyes met hers, she looked at him with utter contempt.

 

 

 

Dean watched the road carefully, defensively, as he drove the few miles to the I-80 interchange and headed east on it. In about 40 miles, he’d be able to exit at Evanston and head north on highway 89. They’d traveled a long distance following the van. Now, they had to get back.

Looking over at Cas, Dean said, “Hey man, check the map wouldja? See if there’s a town that looks good for gettin’ some rest?”

The lack of sleep was catching up with him now that his adrenaline rush was over. With each mile he drove, he got more weary. The car was quiet. Too quiet. In the descending darkness, he craned his neck around to look at the three squashed into his backseat.

Sam and Sarah were sitting close as usual but the new girl was sitting as far from them as possible, pressed against the door as if the thought of touching either Sam or Sarah was abhorrent.

When he looked at her, she looked back at him. Her eyes were fierce, even in the low light of gathering darkness.

“Hi,” he tried, “I’m Dean. And you are?”

“Lily,” she said stoically. “My name’s Lily.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://rachwill.tumblr.com//)


	2. Stronger Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to MoniJune for her mad skills! (Seriously, thanks for doing it)

“Lily,” she said stoically. “My name’s Lily.”

Dean tried for a reassuring smile before turning back to face the road, but things like reassurances and explanations were really more Sam’s area than his own. So, he didn’t say much as Sam and Sarah began putting together the pieces for Lily. They started off by telling her she was not their prisoner. They explained how Sam had dreamt of her and seen visions, how they’d followed clues to find her, how they’d intercepted the van and shadowed it through several states just to see where she was being taken before finally interceding to free her.

“Why did you care where he was taking me?”

“Because we thought he might be taking you to the same place he took me,” answered Sarah.

“He took you too?” Dean heard her ask from behind him.

“Well, he didn’t take me himself. He pretended to be my friend and set me up to be taken by someone else.”

“Where did he take you?” Lily asked her.

It got very quiet in the backseat after that. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Dean could see that the conversation was still happening. It just wasn’t audible to him. Lily and Sarah were facing one another and looking deeply into each other’s eyes, and it was clear that Sarah was explaining things to Lily using her gift.

In the tense silence, Dean looked over at Cas. The map was resting in his lap under his folded hands.

“Didja find us a place to stop?” he whispered.

“Yes, Dean, Evanston looks like it will have a few places.”

“It’s too close to 80. I wanna be back out in the boondocks before we stop.”

“Well then, we can try Woodruff and Randolph. One of them should have a motel. But Dean, the last chance to sleep in Wyoming is near 80. Once we start heading north we’ll be crossing back over into Utah.”

“Tough call,” Dean sighed. As he drove he contemplated which was the lesser of two evils - being too close to Interstate 80 or being back in Utah where they’d just left a man dead in a gas station parking lot.

Following his instincts over his logic, Dean continued on past both Evanston and Woodruff. The car had been silent for quite a while. At first the air had been thick with tension as Sarah had silently communicated with Lily. But as time went by, everyone seemed to deflate like cheap latex balloons after a party.

By the time Dean coasted into the city limits of Randolph he was fighting his own droopy eyelids. When he saw the half burnt out neon sign of a roadside motel, he let off the gas and coasted into the gravel lot. The office building was dilapidated, but their group seemed beyond caring. No one protested when he parked out front.

Once he’d checked them in, he climbed back in the car and drove past the office and around the corner in the direction the clerk had pointed. He was expecting to see a long building with dozens of doors, but to his surprise, he was looking at a line of individual cabins. They were tiny but in good repair, far better digs than he’d been expecting.

As he selected a space and parked, his eyes skimmed over the passengers in his backseat. Lily no longer looked hostile. She was still keeping her distance, sagging against her window, but she appeared resigned. He spoke to her as they all got out and began gathering up their things.

“If you’re not coming with us when we leave here, that’s fine. But no calls. No calls and no cops. Not till we’re gone. Got it?”

She stared icily at him, stone cold and unmoving, waiting far too long to nod her assent.

“Look,” he said gruffly, leaning in and mirroring her fierce expression, “Three people risked their lives to get you out of that van. The least you can do is not fuck us over.”

Cursing under his breath he tossed her the key to her cabin and turned away. He handed Sam a key of his own and stalked wordlessly past them, glancing back at Sarah for a moment. She was, again, focused on a wordless conversation with their ungrateful charge.

Cas was holding both their bags and began walking alongside Dean as he passed. They were silent as they entered their little cabin.  The place was nothing to write home about, but it was clean and carried the natural scent of wood. He sighed as he stepped out of his clothes and climbed into bed still wearing his socks.

It was hard not to smile as he felt Cas tug them off for him. They both pulled together in the center of the bed, wrapping arms around each other.

“Can you fucking believe this?” he muttered as he willed his body to relax.

“What?”

“Two fuckin days… bout a thousand goddam miles… another dead body… and all of it for that ungrateful ice queen.”

 

 

 

Sam rolled over and rubbed his eyes. Next to him Sarah was still sleeping soundly, her long dark hair fanned out on the pillow. He looked past her to the thick curtains that hung over the cabin’s single window. From behind the thick material, pale light was starting to seep in. The sun would soon be up.

Before long, his brother would bang on their door and bark roughly for them all to get their shit loaded so they could get on the road. Between his legs was a stiff request to gently wake Sarah so they could have some time together before getting back in the car. But peaceful as she was, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. When the inevitable knock came, he called back that they’d hurry.

“He’s demanding,” she commented from beside him as she locked into a full body stretch beneath the covers, “Do we have time to shower?”

“You go ahead,” he told her. “I’m going next door and talk to him and Cas… get an idea of what the game plan is.”

She kissed him on the cheek before rolling away and getting up to shower. When the bathroom door clicked shut, he reached below the covers and quickly took care of himself before tugging on pants and heading next door.

He knocked twice and then pushed the door open. Dean and Cas were on the messy bed, a map stretched between them. He leaned in and watched but offered no input as they planned out the route for the day.

“Want me to go knock on her door and see if she’s coming with us?” he ventured, referring to Lily.

“She didn’t answer when I tried,” Dean responded tersely. “I doubt she’s still even there. She probably hitched a ride out while we were sleeping.”

“I’ll go see,” he said, turning to leave.

At Lily’s door, he knocked cautiously and gave his name. She opened the door a crack and peeked out.

“Good morning,” he said awkwardly, “I’m just… getting a head count?”

“I’m coming with you,” she said. Her face was largely devoid of emotion, and she didn’t look like she’d slept well.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, her face softening a little.

“How long until you’re ready?”

“I’m ready now.”

He nodded and turned back to his own cabin. Sarah was coming out as he went to step in.

“Where are you going?” he asked her.

“I’m going to take these to Lily,” she said, gesturing towards the stack of clothes in her hands. “She hasn’t got anything else to wear, and I want to offer her something clean.”

He pecked her cheek as she passed him and changed his course, heading back to Dean’s cabin.

“She’s still with us,” he announced as he pushed back through the door.

“Awesome,” said Dean sarcastically as he checked the rounds in his Colt and slid it into his holster.

“Dean,” he tried, “I’ve been thinking about something.”

“Just one thing? How nice for you.”

“My visions,” he said, knowing Dean would knock off the bravado and pay attention for that. “All my life, we’ve been trying to figure them out. Lately, we’ve gotten pretty good at it. We’re actually saving people now, and it feels great, but…”

Dean didn’t speak, only looked intently at him, waiting for him to make a point.

“Are you going to act like you’re not thinking the same thing I am Dean? Really?”

“What are you thinking Sam?” asked Cas, sitting back down on the bed next to Dean.

Now two sets of eyes stared at him. Suddenly he felt a bit foolish. But he continued anyway.

“I’m thinking,” he clarified, “That we can’t keep pretending like the people I see aren’t connected.”

“Connected?” questioned Cas.

“Cas, I don’t know how much Dean’s told you. But it took a long damn time to even realize the dreams were real; longer to figure out how to save the people in them. We’ve failed more than we’ve succeeded. But the people we save have a common thread. I know you see it too, Dean,” he said firmly as he returned his attention to his brother.

Dean still didn’t speak, but he gave a nod.

“Ever since you told me we should start keeping in touch with them… actually having me give them our contact information before we headed back home… since then, I’ve known you were thinking the same thing I was. We’ve never really said it. But it’s time to say it – to talk about it.”

“Okay, fine,” Dean answered, “They’re connected. Loosely.”

“They’re all freaks, Dean, just like me. They all have some kind of power that they’re discovering. Most of them don’t even know how to use it. But there’s something.”

“What’s that got to do with the long ass drive we’re makin’ today Sammy?”

“We should call them. Now. Before we get too close to the cabin.”

“What?”

“Dean, we need to call them. We at least have to warn them. We’d be fools to think that the people who had Cas aren’t the same ones who tried to take Sarah and Lily. They’ll want me too. That’s why Bobby yanked me out of school and into hiding, right? Did you think I wouldn’t figure that out?”

Once again, Dean was silent.

“Look Dean, we have phone numbers for a bunch of them. I think we should use a burner today. Call them all. Warn them that someone may be coming for them.”

“And then?” Dean prodded.

“And then what? Dean, we’re just warning them. So they can be careful.”

“Careful? You’ve seen what they can do Sammy. How are we going to warn someone like Ava to be careful? What’s she gonna do?”

“Good point,” he said, sinking onto the bed dejectedly. His mind flashed to the burst of machine gun fire that had pelted the side of the van he’d been driving the night they rescued Sarah. He’d already been on the floor when the attack had come thanks to her.

He owed that to the others… to help them as much as he could. But Dean was right. To warn them and then just leave them to their own devices? It was neglectful. Negligent. Even someone like Max who could move objects with his mind wouldn’t survive an attack like that – not even with a warning.

“We need to bring them in,” Sam said softly, knowing his brother would not react well to it.

“Bring them in?” Dean husked, obviously finding Sam’s words laughable. “Bring them in? Who are you, the fucking CIA?”

Sam stood his ground, silently waiting for Dean to come around.

“Sammy,” he barked, “how’s that even gonna work? Huh? We’re gonna bring them into our fortress and guard them?  I’m not Professor X.”

Sam had lots of things he wanted to say, but he forced himself to keep quiet. To wait. Sooner or later, Dean would stop ranting and listen.

“Seriously,” Dean continued, “I can’t bring all these freaks into our shitty little cabin! Where would they even sleep? How would we feed them? How would we protect them?”

Sam watched Dean look over at Cas. Their eyes locked and held, and Dean let out a deep sigh. When he finally looked back, Sam could see a change in his brother’s demeanor. The bluster was gone. The kneejerk reaction was over. He was grounded now. Whatever Dean said next would matter most.

“Sammy, if each of these people is a target on their own, then having them all together in one place is like painting a goddam bullseye on the roof of Rufus’ cabin.”

Only now did Sam allow himself to speak. Because, finally, they were addressing Dean’s real issue.

“Look Dean, we saved them once. What good is that if we turn our backs on them now?”

“Hey, I get it man, I really do. But you, Sammy, you’re the one I need to protect. That’s what I promised Bobby when he let me take you… that I’d protect you. Bringing all of them together like that… it isn’t safe for _you_. Bobby would never agree to that.”

“Bobby isn’t here. If he was, I’d be doing my damnedest to talk him into it. I need to do this, Dean. Please. At least, let’s call them. See what they say. Please, Dean.”

 

 

 

The day passed quickly, or so it felt to Cas.  Dean had succumbed to Sam’s pleas and agreed to use a burner phone to make the calls after they’d eaten.

Breakfast had been enjoyable despite the tension between the brothers and the negative energy coming from Lily. Curious, he’d ordered “a skillet” and to his surprise that’s how his meal had come. In an iron skillet that was set before him on a potholder. It was full of sausage and ham with hash browns and eggs and melted cheese. It was delicious and he wolfed it down, completely engrossed in it and paying no mind to the stilted attempts at conversation around him. 

He’d driven after that, Lily sitting in the passenger seat and staring out the window as Dean and Sam sat in back with Sarah and placed calls to everyone they had a number for. Some numbers no longer worked or went to voicemail, but Ava did answer. She reacted poorly, as expected.

Cas listened as Sam had tried earnestly with her, practically begging. He’d reminded her of how angry she’d been when he didn’t heed the warnings she’d come to deliver to him and how foolish she’d thought him to be. It had no effect on her. When he’d finally hung up, he’d expressed his frustration to the car. It had been funny, listening to Sam curse. After all, it was usually Dean doing the cursing.

“She says she’ll be careful,” Sam told them with a resigned shrug. “She’ll call if she has any new visions and says that we can call her with anything more ‘specific.’ But she’s not going to just abandon her wedding on a hunch.”

“Sounds about right,” Dean had answered, sparing less than a moment for her before asking Sam for the next number.

From the front seat Cas had noticed that the conversation with Max had been shorter and less impassioned. When Sam had hung up, he’d said that Max also agreed to be vigilant but was not interested in joining them in any capacity.

Dean had encouraged Sam to keep making the calls. “He was an angry kid, Sam, he didn’t listen to us back then, why would he listen to us now? Let’s call the next one. Give me a number.”

Cas glanced over at Lily, wondering what she thought of all this. She was still looking out the window, but she was listening carefully. He could tell. From behind him he could hear Sam speaking. He was telling the person on the other end of the line that there had been others like him… people who could do things… people with strange and fascinating talents that had now become targets of kidnapping.

“I can’t even begin to guess who they are or what they want,” Sam said into the cheap flip phone. “They could be government or private, we just don’t know. But they mean business.”

When Sam started speaking to Dean, Cas watched them in the rearview mirror. Sam was holding the phone against his chest, keeping the person on the phone waiting while he talked to his brother.

“What do we do?” Sam was asking. “He wants to meet.”

“Where is he?”

“Vegas.”

“Vegas? ‘Mind control Andy’ is in Vegas?” laughed Dean. “If there weren’t so many damn cameras in those casinos… I’d say let’s go join him.”

“Dean,” chastised Sam, “focus.”

“Alright. I don’t wanna tell him where we’re headed over the phone. Have him drive out of the city to the north. Out in the desert he’ll easily be able to tell if he’s being followed. Have him call us when he knows he’s alone,” Dean instructed. “Oh, and tell him he’s gonna have to throw away his phone and call us from a burner. Here’s the number he should call.”

Cas watched in the rearview mirror as Dean read off the number of their next burner phone. Sam gave the number to Andy and explained about buying a throwaway phone. He warned Andy to put his contacts down on paper and then destroy his smart phone.

When Sam had ended the call, he looked up and said, “What now?”

“Cas,” Dean had said, locking eyes with him in the rearview mirror, “Pull over.”

It had only taken a few short minutes on the side of the road to change their plan and adjust the route. They had turned around and were heading back south in a matter of minutes. The plan was to give Andy a meeting place that was far from the cabin. They’d pick him up and sweep both him and his belongings for listening devices. Once they were sure of their security, then they’d fill him in on the details of what had gone down. If he wanted to, he could join them at the cabin. Or not.

They’d made good time after the stop.  As afternoon had turned to evening, the radio had been playing a lot of songs that Cas knew and it kept his mood light. Dean seemed to also be in a good mood, despite the change in plans. But for some reason, Dean didn’t sing along to the good songs, so he didn’t either.

In the backseat, Lily had remained quiet. She only spoke when spoken to. Although she seemed to be intent on staying with them, she wasn’t happy about it and made no efforts to hide it.

When Andy called back, Cas watched as Sam spoke to him for a few minutes before handing the phone to Dean.

Dean gave Andy instructions. “Alright, off 95, just outside Boise there’s a shitty little town. Marsing. Got that? We’ll be at the Sunnydale Motel all night. If you make it that far without a tail, just honk once when you pull in. We’ll come to you.”

That had been the end of it.

But now, hours later, as Cas pulled into the Sunnydale Motel under the cover of night he was surprised by what he was seeing. It was closed. Permanently. The place was vacant and had been for a while. What had once been small shrubs had grown into huge bushes that overpowered the building. Old window air conditioning units still perched in some of the broken out windows and the paint was peeling away from the sagging structure in huge curls.  There were no occupied structures anywhere near them either… the entire block was dark and still.

“I remember this place!” marveled Sam from the back seat as they drove past the abandoned office.

Cas looked over at Dean in time to watch him shine a smile at his brother.

From behind them, Sam launched into a story about having lived in this place for a few months when they were young boys.

“Dean figured out about a thousand different ways to make macaroni and cheese,” he heard Sam say, “and sometimes he’d walk to the gas station a few blocks over and get us candy bars.”

“Five finger discount,” laughed Dean, eyes sparkling as he grinned over the bench seat at his brother. “Good times.”

Cas extinguished the lights and drove to the back of the lot.

“I don’t know why I thought we’d come here and it would still be open,” lamented Dean from the passenger seat.

“We can find something else,” said Sam.

“No. We have to be here.”

“Dean, we can just call him…”

“No,” barked Dean, the warm eyes from moments ago already hardening, “Even if I was willing to throw away another phone today, I’m not gonna make a call and then spend the night where I made it.”

The car quieted as all passengers came to understand what was happening. They were spending the night here. In the car.

“C’mon,” said Dean, thumping Cas on the shoulder as he got out of the car.

Cas turned off the ignition and left the keys dangling from it as he followed Dean’s lead and got out. They slid onto Baby’s hood, as they’d once done when it was just the two of them in this car. Dean pushed his jacket around to form a pillow and leaned back on it over the windshield. Cas did the same, assuming that Lily would stretch out on the front seat and try to get some sleep. Sam and Sarah would make do in the backseat, he was sure of it. Thankfully, it was unseasonably warm tonight.

“We shouldn’t sleep at the same time,” Dean mumbled as he undid his holster to get more comfortable.

“I’m wide awake,” he answered, watching Dean check his pistol and lay it on his stomach. “I’ll take first watch.”

When Dean tried to hand him the gun, he declined it.

“You’re gonna have to start carrying, Cas.”

“You carry one weapon Dean. I carry two,” he replied, smiling as he showed Dean his two hands.

“Yeah, man, you’re good with those. But one of these days, you’re gonna need to take somebody out from across the lot,” Dean said firmly as he swept his arm in a wide gesture to indicate the parking lot they were sitting in.

“Now I have you for that, Dean.”

“Why?” Dean asked him, face serious as they laid there together. “Why wont you use a gun?”

“I’ve told you. They make it too easy to kill. And I think,” he said softly, trying to put his thoughts into words that his Bright could understand, “I think they darken the heart. They turn men evil.”

“I don’t agree Cas. I’ve been carrying this thing for half my life. I’ve used it more than I care to admit. And I’m not a Dark.”

“That is a strong argument, Dean,” he admitted, his mind sorting through memories of Tessa. He’d seen her darkness overtake her very quickly after she began using a gun. But that could have been coincidence. “Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted.

“Tell you what,” Dean said, eyes starting to warm again, “if you let me teach you how to shoot, I’ll let you teach me how to use these.”

Dean was holding up his two hands. Cas had to smile as he considered Dean’s offer. Dean would learn hand-to-hand combat if Cas would learn to shoot.

“Okay,” he agreed with a smile. Then he rested his head again, watching the stars as Dean fell asleep beside him. The dark street they were on was quiet, but he kept watch vigilantly.

 

 

 

Sam hated sleeping in the backseat. It was worse trying to find a position that accommodated both him and Sarah. He’d barely slept at all, just fading in and out a little, when the sudden blast of a car horn interrupted his mediocre slumber.

“Figures,” he whispered to Sarah as he worked to untangle his limbs from hers.

“Andy?”

“Who else?”

As he scuttled into a seated position, he glanced out the window and saw a van pulling to a stop next to them. He’d forgotten about the barbarian queen and polar bear that decorated the side of it, and seeing it now, he chuckled out loud.

Dean and Cas were already off the hood and walking over to it. The door squeaked when he opened it, and he left the girls behind in the Impala as he walked over to where his brother was introducing Andy to Cas.

When he reached the group, Andy hugged him like they were old friends.

“You took your mind control to Vegas,” laughed Dean, “and came away still driving this piece of shit van?”

“You have your baby and I have mine,” he smiled in response. Sam caught the frisky wink that Andy shot him and watched, fascinated, as Andy took a step closer to Dean.

“You never told me where you scored that sweet ride,” he said, looking Dean straight in the eye.

“My old man gave her to me,” smiled Dean with a friendly demeanor to match Andy’s easy ways.

“You’ve taken great care of her,” Andy continued, walking toward Baby and running his hand along her front fender, “Really, Dean, you’ve done fantastic work on her.”

“Yeah, well, thanks man,” said Dean with a broad smile.

“Sure, sure,” nodded Andy, “Can I take her for a spin?”

“Yeah, man, keys are in there. Take your time.”

“Dean,” said Sam, watching Andy climb into the car and the girls climb out of it.

“Yeah?” Dean said, taking his eyes off of Andy to look over at him in the dark.

“Really, Dean? Again?” he prodded, waiting for Andy’s mind-whammy to wear off.

“Dammit!” barked Dean, coming to his senses as he watched Andy roll out of the parking lot in the Impala.

“You’re weak,” Sam teased, unable to hold back his laughter as the girls came walking over.

“Where’s he going?” Sarah asked.

“He’ll be back.”

“What did I miss?” asked Lily, looking at Sarah for the explanation.

“You missed seeing Andy mind-fuck my brother,” laughed Sam, pulling Sarah to his side.

“Sammy, I swear,” Dean huffed. “You tell that punk-ass bastard that my Baby’s off limits.”

“Sure Dean,” he said, still laughing.

It took a few minutes for Andy to take his victory lap around the block, and while they waited, Sam saw Lily laugh for the very first time. Regaling her and Sarah with the story of how Andy had suckered Dean out of his car back in Oklahoma had been the tipping point. Between his storytelling and Dean’s frustrated pacing, she’d wound up laughing whole-heartedly with Sarah and had continued smiling even after the guy returned.

Dean, working to recover his lost machismo, had grown exceptionally gruff as they all discussed the next step. He worked hard to keep his face from cracking into another grin; but watching everyone, including Cas, try to keep from laughing out loud at his big brother was too much. He broke into fits of laughter several times, and the more pissy Dean got… the funnier the whole thing became.

In hushed voices at a nearby truck stop diner, they talked in detail about the situation and what was to be done. Andy agreed that sticking together seemed the best option. They decided to head to the cabin together with Andy following them in the van. Wanting to spread out a little, he and Sarah opted to ride in the van the rest of the trip.

Watching the Impala’s rear as they followed along behind it, Sam told Andy everything in detail. Naturally Andy had a lot of questions… especially about the girls. He told his friend about the events that led to Sarah’s rescue and then Lily’s. As they drove, the subject turned to lighter things and soon enough they were laughing and having a good time.

When they did finally reach the cabin, Andy took up residence under a wide oak tree that stood on the edge of the hill about 20 yards from the cabin. He grabbed a few necessities from inside like a lantern and a couple lawn chairs, among other things.

Sam helped him carry his provisions out to the van and set up a little campsite under the tree. They worked together to create a little fire pit and sat down by it in lawn chairs. It was a nice night, almost as warm as the previous night, and Sam found himself telling Andy about the lake at the bottom of the hill where they often fished. He told him about how he and Dean used to come here when they were kids and how he wished that they were here under better circumstances.

Andy wondered how this place was so secret if this cabin was “in the family.”

“Honestly,” said Sam, “I’m not sure the specifics of it, but there was a dispute on the title transfer when Rufus’s father bought the place decades ago. The parties long ago gave up on the legal expense involved in clearing the title… so on paper it still belongs to some dead guy. Long as the taxes are paid every year, no one seems to give a shit.”

“Well, I guess that’s lucky,” nodded Andy thoughtfully.

“Yeah, well, the more I learn about my family, the less I believe that luck has anything to do with it.”

“Seen your old man?”

“Yeah, but not for a few weeks now. He must be up to his neck in something – otherwise he’d be on our asses.”

“Well, at least you’ve got one.”

Sam nodded but had trouble meeting his friend’s eye. When Sarah stuck her head out the door and yelled that supper was ready, the two went inside. Sam showed Andy the restroom and then the two walked to the kitchen to grab plates. After the meal, everyone listened to Dean who addressed the group to talk about expectations.

His brother, it seemed, had awarded himself the position of resident Drill Sargent. In a commanding voice Dean explained that he and Cas would remain in the loft and Sam and Sarah in the bedroom. Lily was going to be sleeping on the couch for now, but in the morning they’d start work on enclosing the screen porch. That would become her room.

Sam watched the girl intently as Dean described how they’d seal up that area well enough to make her a bedroom, and she didn’t bat an eye. Never once did she object and insist that she wasn’t staying here, though she did manage a look of disdain as she looked over at what was to be her living arrangements. Andy, Dean said, would stay in the van for now. If the van didn’t provide suitable shelter when the winter storms set in, then Andy would take up residence on the couch.

Sam listened carefully as Dean outlined a schedule for everyone. They would split into two teams each day. One team would stay here and assist one another with baths – since that was a 3-person job. The other team would do chores like gather firewood, cook and clean. Everything Dean said was very logical and well thought out. Clearly he’d been considering these things as they’d driven across the state today.

Watching Dean bring order to the chaos of having so many people crammed into such a small space was really rewarding. Dean had always been the bossier of them, but Sam had never before seen a positive aspect to the trait.

“And,” added Dean, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, “We’re all starting with weapons training tomorrow. Every day between chores and dinner. Cas will be helping us all with hand-to-hand combat, and Sam will help me with weapons training. We’re no pros,” he conceded, “but we’ve learned from some of the best.”

“What makes you think I want to learn how to handle a gun?” challenged Lily, rising to stand in front of Dean.

“After what you just went through,” he said pointedly, “why wouldn’t you want to?”

“I don’t need it. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah,” he said dismissively, “sure you can.”

She seemed to get his point and sat back down. But still, her dander was up, it was easy to see.

With the biggest issues decided, the whiskey bottle was brought out and passed around. The fire was stoked, and the group settled in and began to relax. Lily was perched on the arm of the couch next to Sarah, so he settled down on Sarah’s other side and looped his arm around her shoulders. Andy sat down next to him and Cas settled on the chair. Dean stayed up for a while, poking at the fire and still pacing. But eventually he sat down, settling between Cas’ knees and crossing his legs at the ankles.

It was warm and comfortable in the old cabin and soon the conversation turned towards their gifts. They talked of what they could do, how they had found out, and shared the funny and scary things that had happened as a result.

“I’ve been working on developing my skill,” Andy said with an easy smile. “That’s why I was in Vegas. I’m learning that the more I practice and focus… the more I can do.”

“How do you practice?” Sam had to ask, wondering if there was something he could do to better use the gift he’d been given.

“You just set a goal for yourself,” Andy answered. “Decide something you’re going to be able to do that’s on the next level and then keep trying until you can do it.”

“Give me an example,” Sam pressed.

“Well, I’ve been using meditation to focus. At first, I was sending out thoughts to other people… you know kind of like instructions. I’d put the thought in their head to jump and they’d jump. You know how that works, right Dean?” Andy taunted.

The group busted out laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Dean responded, glaring at Andy. “But I’m pretty sure that right now he’s sending me an order to shove my boot up his ass.”

“Anyway,” continued Andy, quieting the laughter, “now I’ve progressed. Instead of just thoughts, I can send pictures. Like, this one guy I hate, I just beam him gay porn. All day long. Nothing playin’ in that dude’s mind but gay porn. He’s spun.”

He broke into laughter as he told the story and everyone joined him… even Dean.

“Will you help me?” Sam ventured. “I’m just starting to figure out how to use the dreams and I need to do it better.”

“Yes, young Skywalker,” said Andy in a flawless rendition of Yoda’s voice, “learn to use the force, you will.”

Everyone was loosening up and enjoying Andy’s lighthearted antics.

“We need a name for our little group,” smiled Sarah, “Like, something to call ourselves.”

“That’s a great idea,” enthused Andy. “But the Avengers is already taken. What else is there?”

“I don’t know,” she threw back at him teasingly. “How ’bout the Rookies?”

“The Losers,” he shot back to her.

“It’s taken,” she giggled.

“With gifts like ours, we should be the Brain Benders.”

“Or just… The Gifted,” Sarah said, with an expression that was half serious.

“That’s lame.”

“No it’s not,” she replied, taking the whiskey bottle when it was passed to her and downing a swig before finishing. “It’s not lame. I like the way it doesn’t infer revenge or blood lust. It’s peaceful; benign. Just like us. We’re not out to avenge anyone or prove anything… we just are what we are. We’re The Gifted.”

Lily’s sudden rise from her post at the end of the couch was unexpected. She whirled on the group and shouted, “Fuck all of you. Can’t you give it a rest for one bleeding minute?”

Not understanding where this outburst had come from, Sam looked over to Sarah in hopes of an explanation. She wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at Lily. Intently.

“Stop it!” she shrieked at Sarah. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

“I’m sorry,” said Sarah softly beside him, “I didn’t know it bothered you.”

“How could it not bother me to have someone else’s voice yammering in my head constantly?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Hey,” injected Sam, standing from the couch and pressing into Lily’s space, “Lay off her. She said she’s sorry. Plus, all she’s ever done is try to help you. That’s all any of us have done. And you’ve been at our throats for it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not easy being among ‘The Gifted’ okay?”

She was reaching now, past him, and Sam turned to see what she was after. It was the whiskey bottle. She took it from Cas and put it to her lips again and chugged, breathing heavily when the bottle came down.

Lily’s eyes turned stone cold as she looked at him from where she stood.

“You,” she said contemptuously, “you see visions of the future. And her,” Lily continued, gesturing to Sarah, “She can talk to people with her mind. And him,” she said, eyes moving to Andy, “he can control people with his mind. And you can, what, see souls? Right?” she barked, holding eye contact with Cas as she started moving across the floor. “How nice for all of you. Do you wanna know what incredible gift I’ve been blessed with?”

The room was dead silent, everyone holding their breath as Lily stalked among them.

“I’ve been blessed with death. That’s right. You guys all have these cool gifts. But me… if I even touch someone… their heart stops. I may as well be the fucking Grim Reaper.”

Sam felt helpless as he watched her crumble to the floor. She curled in on herself down on the dirty rug, pulling her knees to her chest in the fetal position and sobbed, “I touched my girlfriend.”

She took a deep breath and then wailed, “She was my girlfriend, my _only_ friend, and now I’ve killed her. This isn’t a gift. It’s a curse. I’d rather be dead than be like this.”

Suddenly, so much was making sense. Her surliness, her cold demeanor. Her unwillingness to befriend them. The image of her gloved hands crossed his mind. She’d been gloved when they rescued her and since. He’d watched her daintily peel them off at meals and then put them back on after. He’d thought it a bit strange, perhaps, but things were crystal clear now.

Sam looked over at Sarah and saw her eyes brimming with tears. He nodded to her and together they got up from the sofa and walked to Lily’s huddled form. They gently pulled her up from the floor and supported her weight between them, carrying her to their room and closing the door on the rest of the group.

She continued to cry and mumble as they pulled her to the bed and dried her tears. She was so loose and pliant with alcohol that her ramblings were soft and pleading now. She’d pass out soon, he could tell. Sarah worked to get the girl’s boots off and get a blanket over her body.

Once she was tucked in, he urged Sarah to come out with him and let Lily have the bed for tonight. But she shook her head at him. “You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll stay with her.”

He watched her for a moment, gently stroking Lily’s long blonde hair as the distraught girl hiccupped and sniffled into the pillow. “You sure you’ll be okay in here?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, “we’ll be fine.”

Leaving his girl to care for Lily, Sam returned to the main room. Before taking his place on the couch again, he grabbed the poker and stoked the fire. When he settled in, he was handed the bottle and took a swig.

“How is she?” Andy asked.

“She’ll be alright. Sarah’s going to stay with her tonight. I’ll take the couch.”

“Did you know about her?” Dean asked, getting up from the floor.

“No. She hadn’t said anything about her gift. Sarah’s been talking to her a lot but she hasn’t wanted to push her for information either. She’s mostly been answering questions… not really asking any.”

Dean moved a few steps away from Cas to flop down on the couch with him.

“Should we be afraid of her, Sammy?” he asked.

 “You should probably stop fucking with her,” he answered honestly.

“I don’t fuck with her.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenged his brother, “I swear, every time you call her Princess, her eye twitches. If she could kill you with a look, you’d be dead by now.”

“I don’t think she’s dangerous,” said Andy, tipping back the whiskey bottle.

“Me either,” Sam agreed. “She’s just sad.”

“She’s incredible,” whispered Andy.

 

 

 

Sarah watched Sam go, closing the door gently behind him. Lily’s soft crying was starting to taper off now. Her body was relaxing into the bed. She continued stroking her hair until the girl's breathing evened out. Just to be cautious, she peered over to make sure the gloves were still on. Then, satisfied, she kicked off her shoes and climbed under the covers.

For some childish reason, she wasn’t inclined to blow out the lantern on the little table next to the bed. With nothing to do but wait for sleep to come, she began stroking Lily’s hair again. She hadn’t intended to waken the girl, but she must’ve.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Lily whispered softly.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Dean was right. You’ve been good to me, and I’ve been a real bitch.”

“Don’t worry,” she told her as she continued to run her fingers through blonde hair, “You might not like what brought you to us. But you’re with friends now. You’ll be alright.”

 

 

 

 

The following morning, Cas laid in bed for a while. Dean’s leg was draped over his, and his palm was resting on Cas’ chest. As the light of day crept in the tiny window, Cas watched the dust motes and dander spinning in the shafts of sunshine that cut across the bed. Dean was tucked under the covers with him, their shared body heat creating a warm cocoon that he didn’t wish to vacate.

But, sadly, the need to urinate was fast taking over his faculties.  He knew this couldn’t last… this moment of glorious peace. The air in the cabin was cool and when he finally extricated his limbs from Dean and stood, he shivered. It was hard not to burrow back down into the covers.

He quickly threw on clothes and climbed down the ladder. Quietly he stole across the open space where Sam was still sleeping on the couch and entered the bathroom. For some reason, this room always seemed to be the coldest. He did his business and washed up a bit in the cold faucet water since today wasn’t his day to have a bath.

When he exited, Sam was sitting up on the couch, and Sarah was with him. They were talking in hushed tones, likely about Lily. Cas nodded to them as he passed and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast. When Dean climbed down the ladder he didn’t look well. They’d finished the bottle of whiskey last night and started into another. Dean was obviously feeling the effects as much as Cas was.

By the time Dean had exited the bathroom, he was looking a little better. Cas pushed a plate of eggs and Spam across the counter to him. Sam and Sarah soon joined. Lily didn’t come out, so Sarah took a plate in to her.

“Where you headed?” asked Dean when Cas headed for the door with a plate.

“Take Andy his breakfast?” Cas answered.

“Fine. This time,” barked Dean. “But make sure that pipsqueak knows you’re not a waiter. He needs to come in here for food… not expect you to bring it out to him.”

“Alright Dean,” he nodded as he stepped out into the freezing November morning.

He had to knock a few times before Andy slid the door of the van open for him and gratefully took his plate.

“You didn’t happen to bring aspirin with you?” he asked hopefully.

“No, you’ll have to come in and get some from the first aid kit.”

“I should call Dean and make him bring it to me,” joked Andy. Cas made sure to give the guy a disapproving look, even though the thought was a funny one.

“What are we doing today?” Andy asked him.

“Well, as discussed last night,” answered Cas, “We each have our designated chores to do. Then I believe we’re going to be doing some weapons training.”

“Great. I have a hangover; my bath is a group effort, and all I have to look forward to today is GI Joe training.”

“I’ll see you inside,” Cas said as he stepped away.

The morning was still and cold… no wind at all. He crossed the yard and by the time he got back to the cabin, Lily was up. She was quiet, as usual, but not so standoffish. Her body posture was more relaxed and open. Dean was explaining to her about weapons training.

She wrinkled up her nose at him, but didn’t argue. Andy and Lily didn’t take long getting used to their chores. Much like Cas, the two didn’t seem to find the work challenging – only time consuming.

By mid-afternoon, they were all working together to pack the van. Once again, Sam and Sarah rode with Andy. Lily tagged along with them so it was just him and Dean in Baby. The van followed them as they exited the little hidden lane and turned north onto the road.

“How far is it?” he asked Dean when they’d turned for the second time and eased onto a small dirt road that was little more than a wide footpath.

“Not much farther.”

When they parked, Cas helped carry the equipment and followed Dean as he crossed the small clearing they’d entered. The van was now parked next to Baby, and the rest of the group had come trailing after them.

“Where are we?” Andy asked as he caught up with them.

“Flathead National Forest,” answered Sam, “the North Fork Section.”

“Isn’t it illegal to be shooting in a national park?”

“National forest, Andy, not National park,” Dean answered tersely.

“You’re probably thinking of Glacier National Park,” said Sam, swooping in to answer the question more completely and in a kinder tone. “That’s to the east. There’s a large plain between this range and the one in Glacier. The boundary runs along the river. We’re fine to shoot here, we’ve been doing it since we were kids.”

It took a while to get set up, go over the basics and assess what knowledge everyone had. Sam took Sarah and Lily, splitting off from the group and taking several weapons with him. Cas watched them walk away, leaving him with Andy and Dean. He mostly watched Sam and the girls from a distance as they set up near the other end of the clearing. Sam had taken spray paint from a bag and made marks on some of the trees and then began showing the girls how to stand. Clearly he was planning to have them shoot at the nearby trees for target practice.

Cas’ attention was seized by a hissing sound, and he turned in time to see Dean and Andy decorating the trees near them in a similar manner. It was interesting to watch Dean give Andy a basic lesson on the parts of the gun, how to hold it and how to stand. It was quite a while before the first shots rang out and once they did, the noise was nearly constant for the rest of the time they were there.

Dean stayed with Andy for a while before leaving him to practice and walking over to join Cas.

“Thought we’d start with just the basics today,” said Dean as he approached. “How much do you know?”

“I have the knowledge I need, Dean,” he answered as Dean handed him his Colt.

“Well, let’s see whatcha got then,” was his response.

Cas moved into position, checked the weapon, took aim and then fired off all six shots in quick succession, hitting his crude target with precision.

“Well, god damn,” cursed Dean. “You’re a better fuckin’ shot than I am.”

“I’m not inexperienced, Dean. I have extensive knowledge of and practice with firearms. I simply avoid the use of them.”

“Well, ’scuse me,” snarked Dean as he stepped away. “I’m gonna go fuckin’ get in some practice.”

Cas smiled widely as Dean moved a few paces over and began shooting at the same target. He was almost as accurate as Cas had been. There was no doubt that prior to the loss of his pinky, he’d been an excellent marksman.

Cas made his way over to Andy and watched him for a while, offering pointers and encouragement as needed.

When Dean came back over to the duffel bag of supplies on the ground for more ammo, Cas watched Andy mind fuck him again.

“Hey Dean,” called Andy in a frisky voice, “I’m getting better, huh?”

“Yeah, man, lookin’ good.”

“I think I’m ready for more of a challenge,” said Andy. “What do you think, Dean?”

“Sure, back up a few paces.”

“I’m okay here,” Andy rebutted, “but it would be great if you could go stand over there.”

Cas worked to hold down his smile as he watched Andy point at the tree he’d been shooting towards. It was marked with a rudimentary bullseye in red spray paint. Dean, with a good natured smile, was walking towards it.

“That’s perfect,” said Andy as Dean took his place at the tree, head partially obscuring the target.

The clearing was suddenly quiet. Cas looked behind them and saw that even from fifty yards away, Sam and the girls had noticed what was happening. The three were standing with weapons in hand, just watching with their mouths hanging open as Dean waited beneath the target and Andy took aim at him.

From Cas’ position, he could see Dean was growing nervous. But even still, Dean didn’t object.

“I guess I should aim high on my first shot, huh, Dean? Just to be sure?”

Dean’s face personified inner conflict but his stance didn’t waiver.

“I think that’s enough,” Cas said firmly.

As soon as Andy lowered his weapon, laughter broke from Sam and the girls, and it was impossible not to join them. Dean, suddenly released, regained his control and stormed off cursing.

“Oh shit,” Sam laughed as he jogged up to Andy. “Having you around is going to be sooo much fun!”

 

 

 

Dean was unpleasant the rest of the afternoon. He didn’t like being toyed with by Andy. It further frustrated him that everyone else seemed to think it was so funny. But by dinner, all was forgotten. The group enjoyed roasting cheap hot dogs at the fireplace and had fun playing drinking games after the food was gone.

“Spin the bottle,” hollered Andy when he’d drained the last of the whiskey.

“Not a chance,” said Dean. “You’ll have me literally kissing someone’s ass.”

“I’ll play you,” teased Lily, holding up her gloved hands and raising a daring eyebrow, “if you’re brave enough. For all you know, I could be the kiss of death.”

“Worth it,” he grinned.

Everyone laughed and the subject passed without further discussion. But Cas didn’t think anyone could have missed the look between them. Andy, awestruck and hopeful beyond reason for a kiss. Lily, contemplative for a moment as she considered and then dismissed him.

Later still, when they climbed up the ladder and into their loft, Dean mentioned it, huffing a laugh as he followed up with, “That kid really doesn’t have the sense God gave a goose, does he?”

“I think he’s smarter than you give him credit for, Dean,” he replied honestly.

“If he was smart, he’d quit fuckin’ with me.”

“The rest of us would miss it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you hopin’ to get some tonight? Cause you’re talkin like a man that wants to sleep on his own side of the bed.”

It was impossible not to smile when Dean teased him like this. Even in the minimal light from their one lantern, Dean’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. His inner light was hidden by the blankets when he climbed into bed, but his countenance still glowed as he smiled.

Cas shed his clothes and climbed in with his friend. Dean’s hands sought him out immediately, and as their naked bodies slid together between cool sheets, the wind was picking up outside their cozy cabin. It whistled around the corners and sent branches scraping against the exterior.

In the soft nest of covers, their lips found each other and sealed together. Dean’s tongue pushed into his mouth and slid along next to his. The tip of that tongue was flirtatious, begging Cas’ to come out and play. Under the covers, a strong and muscular leg pushed its way between his and he moaned as the lower half of his body came alive. His stomach was already curling in hopeful anticipation.

Against Dean’s hairy leg, Cas felt his cock filling. As they pressed closer together Dean’s dick bumped inner thigh. His passion spiked with that and his heart leapt behind his rib cage and began beating wildly. Unable to think of any words to properly express his yearning, he borrowed a phrase from Dean.

“I want you,” he said to his Bright.

“Oh Cas,” Dean moaned softly. “The things I could do to you.”

“What Dean,” he asked between kisses, “What could you do to me.”

“I wanna fuck you, Cas,” he said in response as he began kissing his way down Cas' chest and towards his stomach.

“I – I hear that word all the time. But I don’t really know what it means.”

Dean was moving purposefully now, working kisses back up over his belly and nipples as he rolled his hips rhythmically into the meat of Cas’ thigh, hard and heavy cock digging in.

“It means lots of things, Cas,” Dean whispered, “But right now, it means I wanna be inside you.”

“Inside me?” The thought was intriguing. So often he’d held Dean close… so close that it was impossible to get closer. But yet, he’d somehow still wished for more. Sometimes he felt like he wanted to crawl up inside of Dean. Now, to hear Dean say “inside you” was very provocative. His chest swelled with longing for exactly that.

“Yes,” he whispered back, “I want that too Dean.”

He had no idea what to expect. But he knew he would probably like it. Dean, after all, had yet to disappoint him. Never in all his life had he felt as good as Dean could make him feel. There was simply nothing else that even came close.

Sometimes the building inside him, the pulsing, the roar of his body as he came… he feared it would be too much and his heart would just explode from the pleasure and he’d actually die because his body couldn’t handle all that Dean made him feel.

As his friend put his mouth back on Cas’ skin, he found his mind racing about what was going to happen next. But whatever Dean had planned, he wasn’t in a hurry to get to it. His kisses lingered and his fingers teased as his mouth worked downward.

Dean kissed the tip of his shaft sweetly once before opening up to swallow him down. He dropped his head and pulled a pillow over his face so he could moan out loud as Dean sank down on him and wetted his cock. Cas could feel himself gliding over Dean’s tongue and then the bump as his crown met the back of his throat. Suddenly, the tingles began to rush down, and he sucked in a breath when he realized he’d forgotten to breathe again.

When he opened his eyes he saw that Dean was rising up now, as he often did when he sucked on Cas this way, his arms holding him up over Cas as his head bobbed faster and more forcefully. Obscene slurping noises were filling the air as Dean worked to bring Cas to the edge. The tactile nature of the pleasure seemed to sharpen and intensify. Only when he felt Dean’s hands clench his butt cheeks did he realize that his back had arched up off the mattress. He gasped for breath and tried to calm himself down. As he did, Dean changed his movements. The fierce up and down motion slowed and as Cas’ body sank back into the mattress, Dean's tongue slowed and began working in long strokes up the sides of the shaft. It was a relief to feel the swelling pleasure in him simmer back down for a moment. The long licks that Dean was now using started migrating lower… around his shaft and over his balls… behind them and back… and then… he felt a new kind of shiver slither up his spine as Dean’s wet tongue dipped between his cheeks.

Loving the feel of it, he thrust his legs wide open to make more space for his friend. Strong hands slid around him, wrapping his hips in a hug and lifting him up as Dean buried his face.

Soon he was being turned, and he allowed his body to be manipulated, not even trying to guess what position Dean was about to bend him into. He asked no questions, focusing only on remembering to breathe as Dean deposited him on his stomach. Hands were soon at his hips, pulling him, encouraging him up to his knees and then the lips were back, the tongue… it was impossible to keep silent as he worked to also keep still. Dean’s mouth was demanding, his tongue pushing inside and pulling back out, racing circles around the hole and nibbling at the tender skin there until Cas thought he’d lose his mind from it.

Next there was pressure… fingers. Yes. He loved this part. Whenever Dean did this… he was never far from coming. Recognizing the feeling, his body spasmed in response. Those fingers sought out a secret place deep inside that lit him up like nothing else. A cold shiver of anticipation ran through his body at the mere thought.

Moments later the reality followed. No longer able to summon the will to keep his arms locked under him, he let them fold and then his face and his chest were down in the sheets. On some level he knew he must look strange, with his head down and his ass pushed up the air. But he couldn’t find the will to be ashamed – not when Dean was still moaning right along with him and running a wet tongue up and down his crack as those fingers reached in deep and milked pleasure from his very core. It went on and on. Dean was relentless with him, and he was on fire with it.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, “do you still want me?”

“Yes.”

Then strong hands were guiding him by the hips. He was being turned again. Dean came to rest behind him, both of them on their sides. Dean’s chest was pressed up against his back and his Bright was pressing soft kisses into his skin there as his hand reached around Cas’ waist to touch his cock and take it in hand.

Dean’s breathing changed then and something was pressing into him from behind. Something more than fingers. Something big and blunt, and suddenly he knew what it was.

Afraid to move, he groped backwards with his hand and tried to feel it. Yes. It was as he’d thought. Pressing in where only Dean’s fingers or tongue had ever been, was a cock. It was hard where his curious fingertips brushed it and it was slimy, covered in a viscous gel that he now recognized as lube. Curious about what he couldn’t see, Cas ran his fingers lower, bumbling over his own pucker and feeling how it stretched and pulled tight as Dean pushed into him.

“Dean,” he panted out as he absorbed the first manifestations of pain.

“S’okay, Cas, I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

Cas had never imagined that he could be opened this wide – but it still wasn’t wide enough and the sensitive bud that Dean had been licking and wetting was now on fire.

“Dean,” he squeaked, wondering how much more.

“I’ve got you,” Dean reassured, still pushing in.

The feeling of it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His own erection deflated and fell quickly while his body locked up against the intrusion. But in his mind, he kept hearing Dean’s voice over and over, enticing words, “I wanna be inside you.”

This is it, he thought, it’s happening right now. It might hurt a little, but it’s happening. He’s inside of me. The very thought of it shot electricity through his body and he could feel it thrumming in his veins as he laid there and just tried to keep breathing.

Unwilling to stop, even if it hurt, Cas clenched his teeth and gripped Dean’s hip behind him. They were still then, both lying on their sides, Dean’s hot and heavy breaths on the back of his neck. Time slowed down and faded away. Cas noticed that Dean’s skin was damp with sweat beneath his palm where it rested and then his friend’s hand came to rest on top of his.

“Cas?”

“Yes?” he managed to whisper.

“Oh Cas.”

He could think of nothing to say, nothing to verbalize the weight of this moment. But the feeling of it was all around them. It lingered in the air. There was no sound. If wind was still blowing outside, he didn’t hear it. If his heart was still pounding, it wasn’t audible to him. All he felt in that moment was the connection. One long hard line that ran between them and made them one instead of two.

Dean seemed to be waiting for something, though Cas had no idea what. He wanted to say something, but there was so much in his heart that he had no word for. So he said only one word. The sweetest word he’d ever known or learned. He said, “Dean.”

And with that, his friend began to move. It was strange at first, the feeling. But soon the little abortive movements began to stir something deep inside him… a blossom of pleasure that grew larger as Dean pushed into him and pulled back out, again and again. His body responded with tingles of excitement as the feeling began to swirl and churn deep within.

When Dean’s hand moved to take his cock, Cas moaned out loud again and his hips began to move too. They were moving together now, rocking forward and back and both breathing heavily. The feeling crept up his spine slowly at first, and then suddenly, everything was roaring and he cried out Dean’s name again as he came. Dean covered his mouth and whispered, “Shhh.”

Cas stayed quiet after that while a few more waves of pleasure rolled over him, each lesser than the one before it.

“No,” he pleaded when he felt Dean begin to pull out of him. “No, please, Dean.”

“Okay,” Dean whispered in his ear. He wrapped his arms around Cas and held him tightly. But the feeling of connection was gone. He searched for it with fingertips as he had before, his hand reaching behind him, between his cheeks and Dean’s pelvis.

Dean was still there, still inside him, but he was smaller and softening and Cas realized now why it didn’t feel the same. He let Dean slide out of him then, and a surge of sadness fell over him at the loss. They’d only just finished, but already, Cas was wanting him again. He was aching for it.

“Cas,” his friend whispered, “are you okay?”

“I miss you,” he murmured in response. “I miss you already.”

Dean got up for a minute, but was soon back with him. He laid there while his friend cleaned a sticky mess from between his legs that he’d barely even noticed before. He fought back the tears that threatened to leak out. He’d never been sad in bed with Dean before and it sickened him.

More than anything, he wondered how he’d ever feel complete on his own again now that he knew how it felt to be one with Dean.

“What is this feeling?” he croaked.

Dean’s body pressed back up against him, and he felt himself pulled backwards into a strong embrace. It was meant to be reassuring, he could tell. He appreciated the sentiment, but he wanted an identifying word.

“Dean,” he asked again, “what is this feeling?”

“If you’re feeling what I am Cas, then it’s love.”

“It hurts,” he complained softly, one tear slipping out and rolling down his cheek.

“In your chest?” Dean asked him, “Like when you miss me only stronger?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“It’s love, Cas.”

Dean kissed him and kept him encircled with strong arms, his fingers ghosting up and down Cas’ arm as they laid together quietly in their bed. The aching sadness evaporated away as he was soothed until only contentment remained. In fact, he was getting drowsy. Sleep crept up on him, and all night long he dreamt. He dreamt of Dean… of his eyes and his smile and his soft whispered words.

Cas was still thinking of it when he woke in the morning. Love. The feeling was so overwhelming that it had physically hurt and he had to admit that he was a bit puzzled by it. Accompanying that was the knowledge of what it was like to have Dean inside him. He could see now that he’d never get enough of Dean to be satisfied. He felt like a completely different person as he came down the ladder and he wondered if everyone who looked at him would be able to tell that he was changed.

Luckily, all eyes were on Sam. His head was bent over his journal and everyone was watching him silently.

“What’s happening?” he asked the group.

It was Sarah who answered him. “Sam’s had another vision.”


	3. Us & Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to MoniJune for editing this ;)

Cas looked around at the rest of the group, all huddled near Sam and whispering as he worked single-mindedly in his journal.

“What do we know so far?” he asked Sarah as the two moved to the kitchen to begin preparing food.

“Not much. Andy’s been trying to help him, but so far all he’s really seen are dumpsters. It’s not much to go on.”

As they worked together to prepare breakfast for six people with their meager appointments, Cas and Sarah stepped around each other gracefully in a practiced dance. It was always slow going, basically one plate at a time, doing cleanup as they went so they wouldn’t run out of dishes.

By the time Dean came down the ladder, Cas was alone in the kitchen and preparing the last of the food while Sarah and Sam sat eating near the fire. He smiled as he felt Dean slide up behind him. First there was the soft peck of a kiss right below his ear, and then Dean’s scratchy morning voice husked out a question.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Your brother had a dream.”

“What do we know?”

“Nothing helpful yet. He saw dumpsters in an alley.”

“Is that for me?” Dean asked him, referring to the French toast Cas was tending in their little camp skillet.

“Yes,” he smiled as he felt Dean’s lips ghost over him again.

“Cas, last night was…” Dean’s voice trailed off.

“Yes, it was.”

Cas flipped Dean’s breakfast out onto a plate for him, burnt on one side and soggy on the other. He wished it were better, but Dean didn’t seem to mind. He accepted the plate with thanks and moved to join the others who were clustered on the shabby furniture near the fire.

When he’d worked himself up a serving of sub-quality breakfast, Cas sat down with the group. His body yearned to crawl up into the chair with Dean and allow no space between them. But, as he’d learned last night, it didn’t matter how close they were. He’d always desire more. So he contented himself with knowing that Dean felt the same way and went about eating his shitty breakfast. As he did, Sarah got to her feet, taking dirty dishes with her as she went to the kitchen. Sam followed after washing up the last few plates he helped her carry the heavy tub of dirty dishwater outside to dump it. When the door opened, a cold breeze rushed in and carried a few dried and brittle leaves with it.

“Winter’s coming soon,” Dean commented as he got up to stoke the fire. “We should forget about weapons training today and just work on Lily’s room.”

Cas looked around at the group as they nodded along with Dean’s statement.

“I don’t agree,” Cas ventured timidly. He didn’t want to question Dean’s authority over the group but felt the issue was important. “Our self-preservation is the most important mission, not our sleeping arrangements. We would be remiss if we allowed our training to take a backseat to our comfort.”

Dean looked over at him and appeared to weigh his words, thinking it over.

“I know Cas,” he responded after a moment, “but Andy can’t sleep in the van for much longer, so it needs to be a priority.”

“Would you consider changing the schedule?” asked Cas, hoping Dean would see the wisdom in it.

“How so?”

“Well, the work on the cabin has to be done in the daylight. We could do that in the afternoon when we’d normally be at the clearing. Then we can go to the clearing after we eat dinner… when it’s dark.”

“How am I supposed to practice shooting in the dark?” Lily queried sarcastically. “I can barely hit the target in broad daylight.”

“All the more reason,” answered Cas, glancing at Dean. When Dean met his gaze, he knew that they were in agreement.

“Cas is right,” Dean said to the group. “What good is it to be able to shoot and fight if we can only do it under certain conditions? We should be training in daylight and in dark. Hell, we should be training in the rain and the snow, too, when it comes.”

Cas nodded and watched the rest of the group slowly come to see the wisdom of his suggestion.

“That’s it then,” Dean said authoritatively. “After chores, we work on Lily’s room till supper. Then, after we eat, we head to the clearing.”

 

 

 

As Dean watched the group split up into teams for their usual chores, he pondered what Cas had said about self-preservation. He’d been thinking about things all wrong, and he could see that now. He’d been having fun as the girls had learned to shoot. He’d playfully pitted himself against his brother and his lover for bragging rights over who’d been the best shot that day. He’d been thinking of the weapons training as a positive way to expend their nervous energy since they were biding their time in the middle of nowhere. He’d not been focused or driven, not the way one should be with such a formidable enemy stalking them. He’d been foolish.

As he chastised himself, a cold shiver snaked its way up his spine. A voice, never to be forgotten, looped through his mind on repeat, “You’re a fine specimen Dean, but you’re foolish…” It was hard not to physically cringe as the personification of evil reminded him that there are consequences for allowing oneself to feel safe and be careless. He heard Jeffrey’s voice in his head again, and it was sickening. “You’re foolish. And now you’re mine.”

From now on it’s different, he told himself. If he was to be the protector of his brother and the leader of this little group, then he needed to start acting like it. It was time to buckle down and channel John Winchester.

As the groups went about their chores, Dean began a mental list of the exercises they should focus on in training today. When chores were finished and they began working on Lily’s room, Dean made sure to pair up with Cas so he could discuss the training strategy with him. By the time they were breaking for dinner, the two had a solid plan.

Once they’d eaten and loaded up, they headed out to the clearing. It was there that Dean and Cas addressed the group together.

“Okay, we’re gonna start by going over some basics,” Dean said as everyone was climbing out of the vehicles. “Up til now, we’ve been focused on shooting targets. It’s time to move on to the important stuff.” Dean moved out into the group and made an example of sitting down cross legged in the grass and deferring to Cas. The group seated themselves along with him.

Cas looked confident addressing the group, and Dean found himself remembering that the man who’d cried in his arms last night was an undeniable badass. As Cas spoke, his deep voice accented the seriousness of his words.

“Dean’s right,” he said as he began. “We’ve been working on target shooting until now. It’s been a good way to get everyone comfortable with holding a gun, and it’s also given us all a chance to try several different types and see what we feel most comfortable with. But carrying a gun does not assure one’s safety. There are other skills we need to work on.”

Dean and the rest of the group remained silent as Cas brought Sarah forward and blindfolded her. He stepped away from her then, leaving her alone as he returned his attention to the group.

“Too often, you’ll find yourself unable to see when there’s danger. Learning to use your other senses is very important.” Dean watched Cas move towards their little group and motion for quiet as he pulled Andy up from his seated position and walked him over towards Sarah.

Guiding Andy by the shoulders, he positioned him immediately behind Sarah and again motioned for silence. A gentle breeze was moving over the clearing and it rustled the leaf cover on the ground at their feet. When Cas was a few paces from Sarah, he spoke directly to her.

“Sarah, what do you feel?”

“Nervous,” she answered with a laugh. “I don’t know what to expect.”

“I’m not asking you what emotion you’re feeling. I’m asking you what you physically feel.”

“The wind,” she answered.

“And at your feet?”

“The ground.”

“Describe it.”

“Grass and dirt. Uneven.”

“Can you run full speed on this surface?”

“Not without falling… not when I can’t see.”

“What do you smell?”

“The forest… trees… shampoo.”

“You can smell my shampoo?” Cas asked her.

“No,” she replied thoughtfully, “you’re too far. There must be someone closer.”

“Good,” he praised, “Now tell me what you can about the person who’s closer.”

“It’s a man.”

“Keep going,” said Cas. And then, stealthily, he began to move.

“It’s not Sam,” reasoned Sarah. “So it must be either Andy or Dean.”

Everyone was silent as they watched Cas guide Andy by the shoulders again, moving him quietly from behind Sarah to stand in front of her.

“It’s Andy,” she said with certainty. “I can smell him.”

The group let out a collective snicker.

“Why can you smell him better now?”

“The wind,” she answered with a smile. “The wind carries the scent.”

“Excellent,” said Cas turning to address the group. He went on to explain how to listen for unnatural sounds in any environment and how to minimize the sounds made by walking and breathing to stay better hidden from an enemy. Cas was methodical and gave practical advice. He asked questions to the group and listened as they parroted back his information to be sure they were retaining it. Then, he once more made an example of Sarah.

“You don’t need a gun to protect yourself,” he told her as he motioned for Andy to rejoin the group and moved to stand directly behind Sarah, “You don’t even need to see. Feel me. Picture me in your mind based on what your senses tell you. Use the sound of my voice and my breathing to determine how high my head is so you’ll know how tall I am and how close I am. Picture my body and it’s weak points, then picture what you’re body needs to do to and take advantage of them.”

Sarah nodded and Cas leaned in a little, “Tell me, Sarah,” he said in a malevolent voice, “if I was a threat to you, what is your best defense at this moment?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I’d feel better if I had a gun.”

“If you had a gun in your hand, do you think you could kill me with it?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“That’s quite untrue,” he said to both her and the group, “If you had a gun, I could take it from you before you even lined up a shot. You’d feel better holding a weapon, but it wouldn’t save you from me Sarah.” Dean saw Cas give him the nod and got to his feet. He walked over and took out his Colt, currently not loaded, and placed it in Sarah’s right hand. Then he resumed his position with the audience.

“Take the shot, Sarah,” whispered Cas.

She didn’t move other than to thread her finger over the trigger. Cas moved one hand to her neck. She appeared to stiffen, but still did not move.

“I’m here to take you Sarah, defend yourself.”

Her chin clenched and her head tipped indecisively. Her knees bent tentatively, but she still didn’t move. It was clear that she was unsure how to proceed. The uncertainty of where to actually put her feet as she spun and how to hold the weapon were obvious. She tensed several times but never actually turned on Cas.

“You have a gun and I don’t,” he baited as he took off her blindfold. “Now you can see too. Defend yourself.”

Obviously more confident with her sight restored, she spun around and thrust the weapon toward Cas. It was a solid effort, but she was easily deprived of her weapon and left with empty hands. Cas caught her against his body as her momentum carried through and left her off balance like a baseball player who’s swung and missed.

Cas looked back to the group and used her failed attempt as a teaching moment. “It’s good to know how to shoot; Dean has shown me that. I have watched him take down an adversary from a moving vehicle. But at our present skill level, no one in this group should be carrying a gun. It’s nothing but a gift from you to your attacker.”

Dean was proud of his man as he watched him demonstrate how to properly turn on an encroaching attacker. When Sarah was able to successfully replicate what she’d been shown, he gave her an encouraging pat on the back and motioned for her to rejoin the group.

“As Sarah demonstrated for us, we can know a lot even when we can’t see. We do this by being attentive to the sounds and scents around us. We also have instincts to help guide us. Dean and I will teach you all how to use all these things to better protect yourselves, but even that will not be enough. Each of us needs to change how we think.”

Dean knew where Cas was going with this and wondered idly how the group would take it.

“Sarah made a point of telling us the other night that we’re benign and peaceful,” said Cas. “But we can’t stay alive thinking of ourselves that way. The truth is that thinking defensively only buys time. That kind of thinking is fine if you’re in a bar fight and the police are soon to arrive. But for us, this isn’t a simple fight. We have a formidable enemy, and the police can’t help us. If we want to live, we have to be on the offensive.”

Cas was silent for a moment, letting his words sink in before he continued. “We’re fools to think of an altercation as a fight. It’s not a fight. It’s a war. The prize is life.”

Dean nodded, knowing Cas was right.

“Whether we like it or not,” Cas continued, “we’re not benign. We’re not peaceful. If we think of ourselves that way, we’re dead.”

Dean watched as Cas motioned for the group to stand. He proceeded to thread between them and position their arms in different poses as he went. The entire time, he was talking.

“We all need to develop a stance. Each of ours will be a little different, depending on what we’re comfortable with. Nothing on your body should be stiff – no locked knees or elbows. This stance is the default body position when you’re on alert – it’s the position your body waits in while your brain decides between fight and flight. Keeping arms up to protect the face is a good idea, but the more protected your face is, the more obscured your field of vision is. Everyone needs to figure out what’s most comfortable for them and get used to it. We’re going to pair off and try some basic defensive moves. As we do this, pay attention to how you’re comfortable holding your body as you wait for your attacker to advance.”

Dean noticed that Cas made sure to pair off each person with someone they weren’t close to or coupled with. He put Sarah with Andy and Sam with Lily. Then, he and Cas walked between both couples and started with the basics. They put the group through the standard variety of takedowns and defenses that any self-defense class would cover. When everyone was winded, Dean had them sit and once again left Cas to address the group. After all, this was his specialty.

“Alright, now that you’ve got the idea, I want you to practice. Not just here in the clearing, but all day, every day. When you’re chopping or carrying firewood and something startles you, drop your load and take your stance. If you’re walking through a door and someone startles you, take your stance. We need to train our bodies to react to a startle with a specific body position… one that gives us an optimal reaction to any threat.”

“And…” Dean added, getting to his feet, “let’s go ahead and try to scare each other. Let’s jump out from behind trees and pop through doors. That way we’ll give each other as much practice as possible.”

Dean noticed Sam smiling at him widely in the moonlight.

“What?” he challenged.

“You’ve opened a can of worms now,” Sam laughed.

The group laughed along and seemed to delight in this new exercise over the next few days. Startled laughter was the new norm at all hours of the day and night. It was effective, too, even for Dean. His startle reflex had been heightened since Jeff. The worst of it had worn off in the first few weeks after his ordeal, but even now, he was more flighty than he’d been before. Following Cas’ instructions on how to train his body to take a defensive stance when startled actually helped him feel more in control.

That night they’d focused primarily on defensive moves. But as days went by, Cas introduced more and more offensive moves. His efforts to get the group thinking offensively were met with resistance at first but Cas was undeterred. They continued the night sessions until Lily’s room was complete.

She seemed happy to have some privacy afforded her. As an afterthought, they used most of the leftover wood to make a partition that cut the space in half. The screened-in porch ran along the entire length of the back side of the cabin… about 40 feet. Now, with the long and narrow space cut into two smaller rooms, they also had a room for Andy. He seemed happy to have a room of his own rather than having to sleep on the couch as they’d initially planned.

With each practice session, he and Cas introduced the group to new defensive techniques while reinforcing the ones they’d already learned. They also taught the group how to strip an attacker of their weapon and how to use their body weight to put their aggressor off balance. Cas was constantly lecturing on the mindset of the group. He encouraged them to stop thinking of themselves as victims and start thinking of themselves as aggressors. And, always, he encouraged a “team” mentality. 

“Remember,” he told them often, “it’s us versus them. This is a war. The prize is life.”

“It’s not about moral high ground,” Dean added, specifically looking at the ladies because they never seemed to really buy into Cas’ way of thinking… preferring to consider themselves as defenders rather than aggressors. “When it comes to moral high ground, we’re the winners,” he told them firmly. “None of us would be holding a weapon if we hadn’t been targeted. But it doesn’t matter to _them_.”

Dean thought back to what John Winchester had pounded into his head as a boy. “There is no referee to blow the whistle if your adversary takes a cheap shot,” his father had warned him, “That means sooner or later, your opponent is going to take one. It’s an unfortunate reality, but the first person to do the most despicable thing is probably going to win. You’re fighting for your life. So decide early who’s going to be the one to walk away. Make sure it’s you.”

Dean was thinking of John a lot these days. Their present situation reminded him of being on the road with his father when he was a boy and Sammy was just a tot. He’d received far more weapons training than any kid should really have. And along with the skills, he’d been indoctrinated with a sense of duty to protect his baby brother and a ferocious mindset to back it up. “You don’t go looking for a fight,” his father had cautioned him, “but when a fight finds you… be the first to do the worst.”

Jarred from his memory by Cas’ voice, he returned his attention to the present and watched as his friend taught the girls how to go for the eyes and throat first. Knees are second, Cas told them, and he warned them to never rely on a “crotch shot” as their defense.

As the skill levels increased, Dean began incorporating weaponry. He started by having the group watch each other as they took turns running full speed along the tree line and shooting the targets as they went. No one even hit a tree. Dean used it at as an example. He explained to the group how hard it is for even a skilled marksman to hit a moving target. He told them that it’s better to run from someone who’s pointing a gun at them than to allow themselves to be taken because of it. They worked on zig-zag running and holding onto their gun as they fell.

Dean spent hours on end in both daylight and dark teaching everything he knew. Soon everyone was markedly improved. They knew how to tuck and roll when falling, and they could hang onto their weapons as they did. They knew how to come out of a fall with one knee planted and pop off a steady shot without missing a beat. Dean put them through every exercise that John had used on him and even some that he made up himself. Learning to really move with a weapon in hand was good for them all, and Dean was proud of the progress everyone was making.

During the bits of free time they could find for themselves, Andy and Sam worked together on their “Jedi mind tricks.” Sam had been having dreams, but was unable to gain any real information from them.

“Everything’s blurry,” Dean heard his brother complain to Andy. “I feel heavy when I’m in the dream and I know I’m supposed be trying to look for clues, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I see just enough to know I’m in an alley and then it all goes dark.”

“Use a reality check,” Andy replied. “We’ve talked about this… once you know for sure that you’re dreaming you can take control.”

“I tried looking at my feet,” Sam complained. “It just made everything go dark.”

Dean listened to the two of them as they sat on the couch together. Andy had been trying to use lucid dreaming tactics to help Sam take control of his dreams and navigate in them more purposefully. Initially, it had seemed like a great idea, but Sam was starting to get disheartened with his lack of success.

“Well, maybe it’s the looking down at your feet that’s pulling you under,” Andy theorized. “Maybe try looking at something eye level… like a clock on the wall. Use that for the reality check. People can’t really read clocks when dreaming, so you’ll know you’re dreaming if you look at the clock on the wall and can’t read it. From there you can take control and force yourself to look for something that helps you. Try it tonight. Maybe not looking down will help combat the heavy feeling that pulls you down into darkness.”

“Is there a name on the dumpsters?” Dean asked from across the room. “If you can get a look at the name on the dumpster we could start narrowing down the city. That should be eye level in the dream.”

Sam nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to Andy. “I think I’m going to head for bed,” he said dejectedly. Sarah walked with him into their room and shut the door. Dean chuckled as he watched Andy turn to look at Lily. He was like a lovesick puppy. Lily appeared not to notice him, staring at the fire while she nursed a whiskey bottle.

“Ready to go up?” Cas asked him as he passed.

Dean gave a nod and grinned as he turned to follow Cas up to the loft. These days it seemed his friend could hardly wait to get him alone, and Dean loved it. The fantasy men he used to imagine, like Harrison Ford, were nothing compared to Cas.

Those magnetic eyes could pin him from across the room, and the skilled hands that looped garrote wire around necks in the flash of an eye were the same that held him down now when his hips wanted to buck up off the bed. Cas’ shapely shoulders were the stuff of wet dreams, and commands issued by his deep voice reached Dean on a level previously unknown with any other lover.

Cas had been quite passive in bed at the onset of their relationship, timid and unsure. But as their trust had grown, Cas had become confident. And now, since the night they’d made love, Dean had started to see the real Cas. The one who wasn’t plagued with insecurities because of all his knowledge and memory gaps… the one who knew what he wanted and how he wanted it.

Dean felt equally secure now, too, no longer reliving trauma when his body became aroused. The thoughts of Jeff weren’t gone and probably never would be. But they didn’t control him or impede his enjoyment of sex. The only issue in their sex life now was keeping quiet… the cabin was small and crammed full of people. So, even the softest moan was in danger of being overheard – let alone the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin when Dean fucked into Cas from behind.

As soon as he’d reached the top of the ladder, Cas was stripping. Dean watched his friend as he walked around to his own side of the bed. Cas was hurried in his movements as he undressed; but the way he slowed his hands teasingly as he slid his underwear down his thighs gave Dean a flash of insight as to how this was going to go. The playful look on Cas’ face was confirmation. He was going to work Dean over and keep him on the brink for too long tonight. His cock started filling just thinking of it.

He decided to make a challenge of it and kept his boxers on as he crawled between the sheets. Then he blinked at Cas with false innocence as he turned his back on the man and playfully pretended to settle in for sleep.

It was impossible not to smile as he laid there quietly with his back to Cas and felt the man’s fingers tickle down his spine. He bit his lip as he felt them slip playfully inside his cotton underwear. Then, to his surprise, he felt a snap as his friend pulled back his elastic waist and then let it go. The sharp sound of Cas snapping Dean’s undies was muffled by the covers, but Cas’ laugh wasn’t. It was impossible to suppress his own giggle as Cas’ unabashed laughter swelled and filled their tiny space.

Dean still didn’t turn though. He wiggled his butt a little and tugged the covers up around his neck as he felt Cas’ fingers returning and seeking out ticklish places. The backs of his knees turned out to be his undoing. When they’d both burst out laughing a second time Dean gave in and turned over. Cas wiggled down beneath the covers then, firmly attaching his lips to Dean’s sternum and beginning a long string of kisses and licks that worked progressively lower. His belly twitched as Cas moved lower and finally Dean had to grab his own package to save its tender tip from the scruff of Cas’ chin, which now sported a three-day beard.

“Easy,” he mumbled as Cas possessively sucked him down under the covers. It was luxurious to lay back and let Cas’ eager mouth work him over. He found himself breathing heavily as his lover’s hot mouth sucked him aggressively and with increasing urgency. In the minimal moonlight that seeped in through the tiny window, Dean watched the blanket move as the shape of Cas’ head worked up and down on him under the covers.

Dean had to grab a pillow and pull it over his mouth to keep his rough breathing and occasional moans from being overheard. Between his legs, Cas pulled off his dick and begun licking lower. One deft hand was stroking his shaft as Cas’ wide tongue bathed his ball sac and the tender space behind. Wet fingers worked back into his crack to tease over his hole. Cas’ beard tickled and scraped his overheated skin as he worked, and Dean found himself enticed by the feeling.

A groan escaped his open mouth and faded into the stuffing of the pillow as he suffered in ecstasy under Cas’ hands. His friend must’ve gotten hot under there, because with a huff he flung the covers back and took a deep breath before diving back down on Dean’s swollen cock.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, not wanting to just lay there and let Cas do all the work but still finding himself unable to put an end to the overwhelming pleasure that was being bestowed on him.

“Cas,” he said again, hoping for the strength to intercede and reciprocate.

“Dean,” mumbled Cas as he began kissing his way back up from Dean’s groin. “Get the stuff.”

Dean nodded and rolled to the side, reaching into the duffel that was always next to the bed, under the little table that held their only lantern. When his fist closed around the lube, he leaned back and Cas was on him in a flash. He climbed up Dean’s prone body and threw a leg over him as if he were mounting a horse, coming to rest over Dean’s stomach.

On his back and looking up at Cas, Dean found his body humming with want. The man was simply gorgeous… thick shoulders and strong arms framing a heaving chest with just the right amount of chest hair and one adorable angel kiss of a freckle next to his left nipple.

Dean felt the lube lifted from his hand and as Cas busied himself with dispensing viscous gel into his palm, Dean took hold of the cock that swayed enticingly right in front of his face. Glancing up at Cas, Dean held out his palm and winked. Cas understood immediately and squeezed out a measure of the slippery stuff into Dean’s waiting hand. He rubbed his hands together and then polished Cas’ length with slick, the pressure of his fists tightening a little with each pull. 

Dean was watching intently as he jacked his friend with enthusiasm and watched Cas’ own hands disappear behind his back. Dean knew his man was opening himself up and the thought sent a flood of heat down to his unattended cock. Secretly, Dean longed to ask Cas to turn around. He wanted to watch the man’s fingers as he worked them around to loosen his tight pucker. But he didn’t ask. He contented himself with pleasuring his man instead, alternating long smooth strokes with short fast ones and enjoying the way Cas’ breathing changed with the action.

He’d grown so attentive while jacking his man off that Dean was almost startled when he felt fingers bumble to his own member. It had softened a little as his attention was focused on Cas’ pleasure rather than his own; but his excitement surged as he felt Cas’ sticky fingers pulling his shaft back up straight and rubbing it on the moist cleft between his spread cheeks. With a lustful growl, Dean moved his hands to Cas’ hipbones, readying himself.

“Don’t stop,” barked Cas as he pressed his ass back onto Dean’s waiting cock.

Eager to please, Dean returned his hands to Cas’ dick. It started to soften in his hands as Cas backed up onto Dean’s shaft and began to sink down. Glancing down, Dean noticed the little bottle of lube resting next to Cas’ knee and picked it up.

“Don’t stop!” Cas barked again. “I need it Dean…”

“I’ve gotcha, Cas,” he answered, squeezing fresh slick onto Cas’ withering cock. He tossed the bottle aside when he was done and then picked up Cas’ chubby dick and began to work it between his hands, coaxing it back to life as Cas wiggled his hips to slide down onto him. It felt sensuous to feel of Cas’ ample package stirring back to life for him.

Even more lascivious was the juicy squish of wetted flesh as his own hardened member pressed up into Cas’ seemingly impenetrable entrance. He locked his body, holding his ground, and felt resistance on his crown for a distended moment before it finally burst through. Dean found himself cursing aloud as he worked to withstand the rush of pleasure that swelled in his groin and threatened to take him over the edge too soon. Cas called out his name as he sank down all the way and if Dean had any composure left, he would have shushed his lover for fear of being overheard. But he didn’t, couldn’t.

As soon as he was able, he reminded his hands to get to work. The fresh lube on Cas’ thick cock was slippery, and his hands slid easily over it as he began building up a rhythm. By focusing on Cas, Dean was able to withstand the exquisite torture of Cas bearing down on him without blowing up.

Still on his back with Cas straddling him, Dean’s eyes roved over his lover’s body as Cas rocked on him ferociously, setting a punishing rhythm for himself and working his body to a sweat in record time. Dean could feel the power of Cas’ thrusts, his legs bouncing up off the bed with each undulation, and all efforts to dig his heels into the mattress were futile. There was nothing to be done but lie there and take it as Cas rode him hard. The swirling pleasure in his stomach was dipping lower already, his dick throbbing with the promise of release, but each time his hands broke their rhythm, Cas cursed at him not to stop and he had to refocus and then double his efforts.

The man’s chest was now dripping sweat and his mouth was locked open as he chased his pleasure. It was a sight to see. Dean’s arms were burning from the effort of jacking his man so aggressively and he knew that Cas’ legs must be on fire too. But, neither of them slowed or changed positions.

Every time Dean’s hands slowed or broke the rhythm, Cas would look down and growl, “Fuck, Dean, don’t stop.” Hearing that… the cursing… the desperation… Dean would return his attention to Cas’ cock fervently and be rewarded with “Yes, Dean, like that.”

Too soon, Dean felt his end creeping up on him, and he tried to warn his lover. It only came out as a garbled “Fuck, Cas,” through clenched teeth and then it was over.

Dean clamped down, barely able to contain himself as the pleasure roared through him and shot up into Cas. “Dean,” Cas called back to him, “I – I – Dean,” and then there were bursts pulsing from Cas’ tip. Dean felt them land, heavy and warm on his chin, his chest and for no reason he could think of, he opened his mouth and actually hoped for a beat that some of Cas’ spend would land on his tongue.

With mouth open wide and body locked, Dean greyed out for a second. When he came back he felt his heart skip and skitter as his body tried to process all the sensations. It was after the first wave passed and he sank back down into the bed that his errant tongue found a soft glob near his lips and tasted his lover’s jizz. He opened his eyes as he swallowed the slimy saltiness and smiled at the lewdness of the act. Cas was watching him, panting and peering down at him through heavily lidded eyes.

Dean wiped his sticky hands on the covers and then let his palms rest on Cas’ thighs as he looked up at the man who’d just rocked his world like no one else ever had. “Cas,” he whispered, “That was…”

Before Dean could even articulate his thought, he heard the sharp sound of a door slamming downstairs. His ears perked up and, over the pulsing of his blood and the soft ringing in his ears, he heard voices from downstairs. He couldn’t make out what they were saying until a singular voice, the one belonging to his baby brother, hollered out, “Jesus H Christ Dean! We’re building you fuckers a door tomorrow!”

Laughter broke out downstairs and Dean looked up to see Cas break into a flustered grin. “I’m sorry,” Cas said softly. “It’s so hard to be quiet with you.”

“I know,” he replied as Cas grimaced and slid off of him, “for me too.”

Quiet descended after that, the voices downstairs dying out as Dean and Cas recovered natural breathing patterns. The whisper of the wind outside and the hooting of one lone owl nearby was the lullaby they fell asleep to.

Dean slept well that night, but it was morning too soon. The sound of people knocking around in the kitchen downstairs brought them from slumber, and by the time they’d pulled on some clothes the scent of frying sausage was reaching up into the rafters to coax them down.

“It’s barely light outside,” grumbled Dean as he climbed down the ladder.

Immediately, he found himself the butt of thinly veiled jabs from the rest of the group regarding his sexual Olympics from the night before. Cas stood by quietly and Dean was uncertain if his friend even understood what was happening as the group used clever euphemisms to razz them mercilessly.

By the time they’d all eaten, the worst of it was over. They split up as usual for chores and baths and then headed to the clearing. At Cas’ insistence, Dean had tried several handheld weapons. He’d tried the garrote but didn’t feel he was graceful enough. He’d insisted to Cas that he wasn’t capable of the kind of smooth and stealthy attacks that Cas performed. “I’m too much of bar brawler,” he’d argued. “I need to be swinging.”

They’d tried a few knives, but in the end, it was a machete that had felt right in his hands. The weight of it wasn’t too much or too little. It was just right and seemed to be well suited for the distance at which he liked to strike. Cas had wrapped the blade in enough layers of duct tape to give it a very dull edge and encouraged Dean to run with it, fall with it, roll with it. He’d let Dean chase him and practice overtaking him. They’d tumbled to the ground together several times the day before, and Dean was really starting to get proficient with it. Now, when he took Cas down, he had the blade at his friend's throat before his knees hit the ground.

“What do you want to start with today?” Cas asked him as the group paired off for one on one exercises.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “What do I suck at most?”

“The machete.”

“Still?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a badass with this,” he retorted arrogantly, tossing it in the air and catching it with his other hand.

Before he could even look up for Cas’ reaction, he was being hurtled through the air. As he impacted the cold, hard earth he grunted heavily. The blade slid from his hand, and the breath was knocked out of him. Cas was a flurry of hands and in the blink of an eye, he found himself staring up at the bottom of Cas’ chin.

“You were saying?” Cas taunted as he removed his garrote wire from around Dean’s neck and climbed back off of him. “You think you’re a badass? Well, I think you need some practice.”

Dean rasped as he waited for his body to recover breath and caught a glimpse of Sam as he walked by laughing. “Like it on the bottom?” his brother teased sarcastically.

“Shut up bitch,” he responded, getting up to follow his brother over to grab a drink.

“Whatever, jerk,” Sam retorted as the two chugged water from canteens. From across the clearing they watched Cas fall in with Sarah. The two began practicing takedowns, and Sam chuckled as he watched Cas let Sarah snake a gun from him.

“He’s not helping her by making it easy,” Sam commented.

“She’s getting better,” Dean answered. “Next time we’re in a jam, she’ll be useful. We all will.”

“I don’t think we can save this one, Dean,” Sam said softly.

“What?” Dean asked, turning his full attention on his brother.

“I’ve been having the same dream over and over. I can’t get anything from it. It’s all just a blur. I stagger through a door and find myself in an alley – it’s so blurry that I can barely make out anything. I see dumpsters, and then I go down. There’s just nothing… I can’t help this one.”

“Look, Sammy,” Dean responded firmly, “all you can do is your best. We’re not gonna be able to save everybody. We’ve known that from the beginning.” It was easy to tell his brother this and mean it. But deep down he knew there was nothing so painful as the kind of failure his brother was facing.

They stayed practicing in the field until the sun began to sink and then headed back to the cabin to make supper.

“I’d give my left nut for a deep dish pizza,” Andy complained as he sat on the floor near the fireplace and worked to prepare an MRE.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, “these suck. But at least there’s no cleanup.”

“Supply run tomorrow?” Sam asked from across the room.

“Looks like,” said Dean, knowing they shouldn’t waste the MREs.

They were all pretty tired and sore from the relentless training, so they made it an early night. When they crawled into bed, Cas suggested that they wash the sheets if they were going into town tomorrow. It was a good idea. As they laid there waiting for sleep to come, Dean made mental lists in his head of the things they should take care of while they were in town.

It was the deepest and quietest part of the night when Dean was pulled from slumber. From downstairs he heard his brother shout, “Dean!”

“What?” he called as he fumbled out of bed.

“Get down here!”

Both he and Cas staggered to pull on pants. As they were coming down the ladder, Dean said, “What is it, Sammy?”

“Pack up. We’re going to San Francisco.”

“You had a dream?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you in the car. We need to get moving.”

As Dean came fully awake, he realized that the rest of the group was already moving. First he asked Andy how much gas he had in the van and if he minded driving it caravan style behind the Impala. They spent a few minutes deciding the specifics of everything and then started sorting weapons and supplies between the two vehicles. Around them, the rest of the group was deciding who was riding in which vehicle and loading their personal items accordingly.

It was still dark when they rolled out. Dean and Cas were in the Impala while Andy drove Lily, Sarah and Sam in the van. They headed south through the Rocky Mountains. Shortly after first light, they stopped to gas up the vehicles and use the facilities. While they were there, they settled down at a large table in the attached diner to eat breakfast.

Once the waitress had taken their order, Dean looked over at his brother and said, “Tell me everything.”

“Well, I saw more this time. There was nothing at eye level that I could look at so instead of looking down, I tried looking straight up to the sky. And you know what I saw?”

“What?” Dean pressed.

“Wires… like for a cable car. It’s San Francisco, Dean. I saw cable car wires.”

“What else?”

“When I looked back down, I got heavy and blurry again and everything went black.”

“I have a theory about that,” Andy said, leaning in. “I think that whoever you’re dreaming about is drugged and that’s why you can’t stay in the dream long… the person you’re dreaming of is already on the verge of blacking out when you get into the dream.”

“That’s… that’s actually… brilliant!” shouted Sam, pounding the table excitedly with his fist. “You’re brilliant Andy!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go that far,” Dean grumbled. Then he turned his attention back to the issue at hand. “You get anything else Sammy? Any writing on the dumpsters or anything? Help us narrow down the search? There’s a lot of alleys in San Francisco.”

“Sorry, no,” Sam said, hanging his head.

“It’s okay,” Dean encouraged, “you will, Sammy.”

“When you go to sleep,” said Andy, “try telling yourself that you’ll join the dream sooner. Repeat it to yourself as you’re falling asleep.”

“That is some insightful advice, Andy,” Dean snarked, suddenly irritated with the kid though he had no logical reason to be. Sam gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes. Thankfully, the conversation turned lighter as the food was delivered. Dean dug into his Denver omelet and winked at Cas across the table as he watched his friend cut into a tall stack of flapjacks. This was the best meal they’d had in weeks, and he meant to enjoy it.

Traveling caravan style worked well. Andy’s van had a sleeping area that the weary could take turns using for sleep. Having most of their equipment in the van also kept the Impala free of the constant clutter of bags and coolers. Dean found that they made much better time like this. The group switched drivers at every stop, which kept monotony at bay. They rotated between vehicles too. Even the longest stops they made were never much more than an hour.

Starting to feel fatigue settle in on him, Dean decided to take his turn resting on the makeshift bed in Andy’s van. It felt a bit strange for Dean to turn over complete control of the Impala to his brother and Cas, but he tried to get past it. It took quite a while to fall asleep despite his road weary exhaustion.

When he finally started to doze off, he found himself irritated by the constant laughter coming from the front of the van. Andy was up there with Sarah behind the wheel and Lily as his captive audience. They argued playfully over the choices of music, which wasn’t so bad. But, Andy’s gratification at hearing Lily laugh kept him throwing out one-liners constantly and many were at Dean’s expense. He’d find himself drifting off only to be jerked out of slumber by bursts of loud laughter or a squeal from one of the girls when a favorite song came on.

When they finally stopped for gas, Dean awakened and realized he’d actually been sleeping soundly. His mind was mushy and his limbs heavy. He willed his eyes to stay shut and body to remain relaxed, hoping to fall easily back asleep again when they pulled out of the service station and onto the road. The loud, grating sound of the van’s side door sliding open pulled him fully awake and he picked his head up, blinking as warm afternoon sunshine flooded in. A crisp and refreshing breeze cut through the stale air and he inhaled it deeply as he saw Cas climbing in with him.

“You too?” he asked.

“Yes, may I?” Cas replied, indicating he’d like to join Dean on the mattress.

“Yeah man,” he replied as he wiggled over. “Here.”

Cas accepted the pillow Dean had thrust at him and reached behind himself to slide the door shut. It was relatively dark in the back of the van then, and Dean dropped his head back down as his friend shed his overcoat and stretched out next to him.

“This van is useful,” Cas huffed as he stretched his limbs and wiggled to get comfortable.

Dean didn’t agree out loud, only gave a nod of his head and asked, “Where are we?”

“Fort Klamath, just south of Crater Lake.”

“So we’re not to California yet?”

“Soon.”

“Who’s driving my Baby?”

“Sam.”

“Okay.”

They laid there quietly, and eventually the van started moving again. Dean didn’t have to look up to know that Andy was back in the driver’s seat. Sarah had likely joined Sam in the Impala and that went a long way towards explaining the lack of conversation. Without Sarah’s presence upfront, Andy and Lily had no easy laughter. It was quiet in the van with the exception of the radio.

Dean tried to relax and go back to sleep, but as time went by he realized that getting back to sleep was unlikely. He sat up and leaned against the wall of the van. With time to kill, his eyes roved Cas, who seemed to be having as much trouble sleeping as Dean was. Bored, he looked over Andy’s personal space.

The kid had been living in this van prior to moving into the cabin. Even then, he’d only dragged in a mattress and a book. Here, in the van, was his life. Dean could not suppress a chuckle as he took in the absurdity and contradiction of it all. Tucked away in easy reach was a huge glass bong and Dean ran hand over it in appreciation. Nearby was a plastic milk crate, and it was overflowing with books.

“Will ya look at this?” Dean said to Cas as leaned forward to examine the contents. “The dude’s got Nietzsche tossed in here with Hustler magazines.”

He reached for the book that was open on top of the pile, its spine well-worn and holding no tension as the book splayed flat, open to a page. His eyes skimmed the text for a moment before looking back at Cas.

“He’s reading ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’ by Viktor Frankl.”

Cas didn’t respond except to nod. The daylight outside was fading and in the back of the van it was quite dim, but Dean managed to read a few paragraphs.

“Hey Cas, listen to this, ‘When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.’ That’s deep.”

“And applicable,” sighed Cas.

“I’m not gonna be able to go back to sleep,” Dean complained. “I may as well be driving.”

“What do you plan to do when we arrive?”

“No clue. Lay low til Sammy gets more info I guess.”

“What is that?”

Dean followed Cas’ gaze to the disco ball hanging from the ceiling.

“It’s a decoration,” Dean said with a chuckle. “Mostly it’s for parties and dancing and stuff. It spins. So when you shine colored lights on it, they get reflected around the room.”

Dean had no idea that anyone was listening to him and Cas as they talked softly. But Andy’s voice cut through their assumed privacy and announced, “That works, ya know. The switch is behind my seat.”

Dean leaned forward and stretched to grasp the cord that hung from the ceiling and used his thumb to turn the rotary switch. The small dark space lit up immediately. The disco ball turned, catching colored lights shone from a lamp near the rear door and throwing them against the walls. All around them swirled colorful dots. Cas’ eyes lit up, and he grinned as he laid down on his back to watch the show.

“Fantastic,” he murmured.

Sometimes it was impossible not to adore Cas. He was the embodiment of everything wonderful. He was warm and caring, but he was also an undeniable badass and fierce protector. He was sexy as fuck, but yet through him, the world could be experienced with childlike wonder and adoration.

“You need to turn those off Dean,” Lily said from upfront. “It’s dark enough now that they can be seen from outside.”

“Yeah, nothin’ like drawing attention to us, huh? Studio 54 on wheels back here,” he chuckled. It was dark without the disco lights but Dean stayed sitting up, leaning on the wall of the van. “I feel like I should be driving if I’m this awake. I should be doing something useful.”

“You have your machete with you?” asked Cas.

“Um, I think it’s in one of these bags,” he responded, gesturing to the pile of gear near the back. “Why?”

“I think you should carry it from now on, like you do your gun.”

“How?” he asked incredulously. “The gun can be hidden in a holster. There’s no hiding a 20” blade, Cas.”

“I disagree,” his friend said, pulling Dean’s jacket from the floor. “Give me your knife.”

“You can’t cut that,” said Dean, noticing the way Cas was fingering the lining, “My old man gave it to me.”

“From what you’ve told me about your father,” Cas said with an impish grin, “he’d approve of an enhancement that allowed you to carry more weaponry.”

“You’re probably right,” he chuckled, pulling the knife from his boot and passing it to Cas.

He watched as his friend cut carefully along the seam of the lining starting on the inside of the lapel and working his way down.

“We’ll improve this design when we return to the cabin,” Cas reassured him, “but for now, pass me that roll of tape.”

Dean followed Cas’ glance to a roll of duct tape that was sitting in a plastic tub of other utility items. He passed the roll to Cas and watched his friend apply it to the seam edge and fold it over. This gave the soft lining a more pronounced edge. What had been nothing but a long tear, was now a structured opening. Dean could easily see himself stowing the blade in there and being able to retrieve it easily when needed.

“I won’t be going through any metal detectors with that,” he mused, “but other than that… it looks awesome Cas.”

By the time they rolled into the next stop, switching drivers under the murky vapor lamps of a small roadside gas station, Dean was wearing his new and improved jacket. He liked the feel of it… heavier on his left side because of the blade hidden there. He felt empowered by its presence and was grateful that Cas had pushed him to practice so much with it. He smiled at the man as they settled back into the Impala together.

They were in northern California now. Behind them in the van, Sammy was trying to sleep. Dean was hopeful that by the time they got to San Francisco his brother would have more information from them.

 

 

 

Cas was staring out his window silently as they zigzagged into Tamalpais-Homestead Valley on Highway 1. It was nighttime, but in the silvery moonlight Cas could see the outline of the rolling hills around them. The towns they passed through were quaint, clean and quiet with classy hotels and eye-catching restaurants.

In the driver’s seat, Dean was irritated. “Whose ass do I have to kiss to get a greasy cheeseburger and a dive motel around here?” he fumed. Cas worked to suppress a laugh.

Sam had reminded Dean at their last stop that they’d been driving through “wine country.” Not only did that mean less of the kind of bars, restaurants and hotels that Dean favored – but it also meant that Andy’s van was more conspicuous here.

Dean had been adamant that they shouldn’t enter the city until they knew where they headed, preferring instead to check into a cheap roadside motel somewhere while they waited for Sam to see more. So, when they came around a bend and saw an aged sign for America’s Best Value Inn, Dean slowed the car and pulled in.

“Bout time,” Dean grumped.

Cas didn’t mind Dean’s temper. He just kept quieter. Even in the dark it was easy to see that this hotel was far nicer than those they usually frequented. Dean went to the office alone and booked their rooms before searching out the least-visible parking spaces for their vehicles. As they were all gathering their gear, Cas smiled listening to the girls rave about how they were all going to get hot showers. It was hard not to look forward to that.

When they were finally alone in their room, Cas dropped his bag and said, “Hot shower.” He watched a smile spread across Dean’s face, and they both moved to the bathroom, stripping as they went. Energetic hand-jobs waited, a good scrub taking priority. Afterwards they tucked into bed. Outside, the sun had risen and the day was upon them. But in their room, Dean and Cas settled between fragrant white sheets. Wet heads rested on fresh pillowcases and both were asleep before they knew it. When they awoke, it was to knocking.

Both men got up and pulled on pants, Dean fumbling to the door and opening it for Sam. Sarah was with him.

“What’s up?” Dean asked as the two walked in.

“We need to get to a library.”

“What did you see?”

“She had quarters in her hand. A fistful. And I saw her face in the mirror. She was in a shitty bathroom and she had tons of quarters. She put them in her pocket and then washed her hands.”

“And what does that tell you?” Cas asked, his mind foggy from sleep and slow to process.

“Well, where do young people go with fists full of quarters and shitty bathrooms?” Sam questioned rhetorically. He didn’t even pause before answering his own question. “The laundromat.”

There was a beat of silence where Cas could see the gears grinding in Dean’s head, and then he started to nod.

Cas watched Dean clap his brother on the shoulder. “That’s solid, Sammy,” he said as he moved to gather his things. “We need to get in front of a computer and find out how many laundromats there are near cable car routes.”

“I’ll go tell Lily that we’re heading out,” Sarah said as she brushed past them to leave.

They were on the road in less than half an hour. Sam and Sarah were in the backseat of the Impala as they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge into the city. Seeing it in real life was far different than seeing it on television. The area was incredible, and Cas longed to explore it. It was hard to even pay attention to the discussion going on around him, and it was only laughter from Dean that pulled his interest back.

“You’re far more devious than I thought,” Sarah was saying. Everyone was laughing.

“How is Dean devious?” he asked, turning towards the backseat.

“My brother,” supplied Sam, “made sure to have Andy and Lily share a room last night.”

“Hey,” laughed Dean, “this way the little prick can’t say I never did him any favors. Besides, he hasn’t mind fucked me for almost 48 hours. He’s earned it.”

“Look!” Cas shouted, pointing out into the bay. The water was sparkling in the late afternoon sun, and dotting the west end of the harbor were dozens of boats with colorful sails.

Cas noticed Sarah’s wistful expression as she said, “I wish we were here for sightseeing. I’ve always wanted to visit San Francisco. It’s on my list.”

As they exited the bridge and moved into the city, the car grew quiet while everyone gawked at the scenery. The library they visited was far different from those Cas had visited with Dean before. It had grand windows and beautiful appointments. He walked the perimeter in it, as he’d always done when Dean and his brother researched. He was vigilant in guarding the entire group but admired the architecture as he did. The oversized arching windows and rounded bookcases were lovely, and the rooms were full of natural light.

When they’d been working for about an hour, Cas wandered back to the computers. Everyone was quiet and fully focused on the screens.

“How is it going?” he asked Dean.

“S’okay,” his friend replied, not looking away from his screen. “We’ve used street view to see which laundromats are near cable car lines. There’s lots. Now we’re seeing which of them back up to an alley.”

Cas rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder for a moment and then resumed patrolling the perimeter. It wasn’t much longer before they left. The group wanted to eat, but once again the offerings didn’t meet Dean’s approval. They managed to find a burger place, and the food was good. There was even pie. But Dean griped the entire time about how it was too “fancy” and “upper-crust.”

“Dean,” interrupted Sam, “was your burger good?”

“Yeah.”

“Then shut up already, jerk.”

Looking around the table, Cas noticed that everyone was working to hold back laughter. Apparently the group found Dean’s complaining to be funny.

“Hey,” said Andy, leaning in, “that pie looks awesome.”

“Haven’t tried it yet,” Dean answered, sliding the last of his fries around in his ketchup and shoving them hastily into his mouth.

“What flavor is that?”

“Strawberry.”

“Can I have it?”

“Sure, man,” Dean replied with a smile, “knock yourself out.”

Cas had to laugh when everyone else did. The look on Dean’s face was priceless as he watched Andy sink his fork into the first piece of pie Dean had seen in weeks.

“Mmmm,” moaned Andy, “thanks man; this is awesome.”

“Glad you think so,” Dean answered gruffly as he woke up from the spell. Then he sent a pointed look at Sarah and added, “Hope you like your sleeping arrangements tonight, Andy.”

Cas was really beginning to enjoy being part of the group. There were still times when he wished it was just him and Dean, like it had been in the early days. But there was something to be said for this growing camaraderie.

“What’s the plan?” Cas asked, pulling the group from their laughter and bringing the subject back to the task at hand.

“We’ve got seven possible locations,” Sam answered.

“And we’re going to drive by each of them today,” Dean added. “We’re gonna let Sammy get a look at the dumpsters in the alley behind each so we can figure out which is the right one.”

Everyone seemed positive that they were on the right track. But daylight was fading as they moved from one location to another. It took longer than expected, and Dean was exceptionally grumpy from having to deal with the traffic and unfamiliar city streets. When they stood in the alley behind location number seven and Sammy shook his head no, Dean looked ready to scream.

The ride back to the hotel was enjoyable for Cas despite the tension in the car. It was nice to see a city from this perspective, riding in a car with his friends instead of walking the crowded streets alone. And this city seemed to possess a beauty that Kansas City had not.

“Let’s not go back to the hotel,” Sarah said softly. “Let’s do something.”

“Like what?” Sam asked her.

“I don’t know, let’s see some sights.”

“There’s Golden Gate Park,” suggested Sam.

“You need to sleep,” Dean barked roughly.

The car went silent again, and everyone stayed quiet as they rode back over the bridge and headed north out of town. Back at the hotel, they separated to their rooms without saying much. The tone was somber, and Cas could tell that Dean was quite burdened by their circumstances. He didn’t even go to the office and get Lily her own room. That had been Dean’s planned revenge on Andy, Cas was sure of it.

“You’re going to let Andy have another night sharing with Lily?” he asked, hoping a reminder of their light hearted conversation at the restaurant would return some of his earlier friskiness.

“Nah. Doesn’t matter,” Dean sighed. “Dude hasn’t got a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Cas stepped up and pulled Dean’s shirt gently off over his head and let it fall to the floor. It was quiet in the hotel room, and the bed was inviting. Dean snaked an arm around him and pulled him into it. Finally, as they began undressing each other, Dean started to relax.

They kissed a little as they worked out of their pants and though Cas spread his legs wide, Dean didn’t sink between them. Instead, he pulled Cas’ cock out of the slit in his boxers and started stroking it. His touch was light at first and then heavier. Eventually Dean moved in closer and wrapped his hand around both of them to bring them off together. Afterwards, Dean kissed him and then grabbed the remote to turn on the television.

“Are you alright Dean?” he asked.

“Yeah Cas,” he replied, rolling closer and resting his head against Cas’ arm, “I’m just tired I guess.”

Dean wasn’t tired, Cas could tell. He was frustrated. They watched television for hours, late into the night, and both were both still wide awake when there was a knock at the door. Dean got up to answer it and Sam pushed into the room, agitated.

“Dean,” he said urgently, “I’m sorry…” His voice trailed off as his eyes found Cas, still in bed and obviously naked beneath the covers.

“What? Sammy what?” prodded Dean.

“I’m sorry,” Sam repeated, seeming to feel bad for pulling them out of bed in the middle of the night. “Dean, we have to go. I had a vision.”

“Okay Sammy. We can go, just tell me what you saw.”

“I saw the name of the place. It’s not anywhere we went today.”

“What’s the name?”

“Coin-op,” he answered. Cas watched Dean’s brother take a deep breath and then add, “There’s more.”

“What?”

“I saw her hand again. She had quarters… but she also had on a wristband… the kind they give out at bars and concerts. Dean, it was dated tomorrow.”

Dean spun and cursed out loud as he began to pull on his shirt. “Sammy, get everyone up. We need to get loaded and on the road as soon as possible.”

“Dean, there’s no library open this late. What are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure out something,” he said dismissively, ushering Sam out.

Cas noticed Dean giving him a look and realized he should be moving. He began dressing hurriedly and wondered where they would go. As he began to gather their things, Dean pulled on his shoes and headed out the door.

“Where are you going?” Cas asked him.

“Front desk,” his friend answered roughly, “I need a damn phone book.”


	4. On The Road Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to MoniJune for editing this and for such helpful insights. It's very much appreciated!

By the time Dean returned from the front office with a phonebook, the rest of the group was gathered in their room. Lily was the only one who looked groggy from disturbed sleep. Andy was quiet as he and Cas sat together watching Sam and Sarah try to brainstorm. When Dean came in, all eyes turned to him.

He flopped the phonebook down on the bed with a thud. It looked like it weighed twenty pounds.

“I miss my laptop,” Sam sighed.

Pouring over the yellow pages first and then the white pages did them no good. They could find no listing for Coin-op or any variation of it. Sam hadn’t been able to retain a solid image of the logo either, at least not well enough to re-create it in his journal. All he could do was draw a circle on the page and write the word Coin-Op on it. He said there were other words on the sign, but he couldn’t remember them. What he could say with certainty was just that the sign had been black with white letters and had been a circle.

As time passed, Sam’s frustration grew. As Sam became more agitated, Dean did too. Cas knew Dean was working hard to keep from losing his temper, so he stayed quiet. It was all he could think to do. As the sun rose and faint light began to seep into the room, Dean looked up the number for the public library and called it from the hotel room’s landline to see when they’d open.

“Dammit,” he grumbled, “they don’t open til 10 am. That’s like three hours.”

“Well, it took like an hour to get to the library yesterday,” said Sam. “Let’s get going. We can stop for breakfast on the way.”

“Since we have some time,” Sarah said softly, “maybe we should all grab a shower. Who knows when we’ll have the chance again.”

Cas loved that she suggested it. Another shower sounded wonderful. Their bathing experiences at the cabin left a lot to be desired. The group disbanded then, each to their own rooms, and agreed to meet back in an hour.

When they were alone, Dean looked at Cas for a long time. His eyes were probing, but his expression was unreadable.

“What is it Dean?”

“I have a bad feeling about this one. Something isn’t right.”

More than anything, he wanted to assist his friend. But what could he offer? He had no sage advice. He could be of no assistance with unlocking the clues they had. His gifts were in the physical… stalking prey and eliminating threats… that’s where his value was. The best he could do right now was console his friend. To do so, he walked slowly across the room and moved to embrace him. Dean accepted the gesture and returned it, wrapping his arms around Cas in a warm hug.

For a brief moment, Cas thought he felt Dean relax a little. But if there was a moment of peace for Dean Winchester, it was short lived. His body was still rigid and his frustration seethed beneath his skin, even after they’d showered together and shared a release in the steaming spray.

The group met up as planned, stopping for breakfast at a diner near the bridge. The scenery was remarkable and, once more, Cas found himself staring out the window and wishing to be able to explore the city and its surrounding scenic vistas.

Andy seemed to realize that today wasn’t a day for messing with Dean. The rest of the group was also giving him a wide berth. Both brothers were tense until they finally reached the library. They were the first to enter upon its opening and made their way to the computer area they’d used the day before.

Cas patrolled the perimeter of the room, as was his custom, but he cut close to the group often so he could be privy to their hushed conversation. On his third round, he heard Dean curse.

“Fuck,” he whispered loudly. “Sammy. c’mere.”

Sam’s chair scraped across the tile as he pushed back from his station and walked over towards his brother.

“Is this it?” Dean asked his brother.

The group, Cas included, leaned in to examine the picture on Dean’s computer.

“Yes!” Sam enthused, drumming Dean’s shoulders with his palms from behind. “Yes, yes yes!”

“Damn, no wonder we were barkin’ up the wrong tree,” Dean laughed. “This isn’t a laundromat.”

“What is it?” Cas asked as he leaned in to get a better look.

“It’s a bar,” Sam chuckled.

“It’s an arcade,” corrected Dean.

“It’s both,” Sarah said firmly, “And we’re in the wrong city.”

As that was said, Dean returned his attention to the screen, and Cas became aware of how long he’d been paying attention to his friends rather than guarding them. He returned to his perimeter and made another round before coming close again to hear more.

In his absence, the group had been trying to figure out why Sam had seen cable car wires if they weren’t meant to be in San Francisco. By the time he passed by them again, he had his answer. The Coin-Op Game Room was located in Sacramento… on a street that carries cable car lines and tracks. Based on the information they’d found so far, it looked like the city had an initiative open to use tax option dollars along with matching federal funds to commence operation of a cable car line through the city. However, without sufficient interest, the project was stalled and the system wasn’t in use.

The group finished their research and printed off a few maps before returning to the vehicles. They headed for Sacramento and as the city slipped away on the other side of window glass, Cas found himself listening to the chatter in the car with little attention. He liked this place and hoped to return one day.

It was good to see Dean’s earlier tension slipping away and being replaced by adrenaline. Cas knew Dean was a man of action. Knowing that someone needed saving and being useless to find them was hard on his friend. Cas understood.

When they arrived in Sacramento, finding the Coin-Op was easy. They parked both vehicles in a parking garage nearby and walked the area several times over as the sun tracked across the sky.

The Coin-Op had an outdoor patio with access to the street for foot traffic. It also had a large indoor area with a bar. The walls were lined with all different kinds of video games. With their scouting complete, the group climbed into the back of Andy’s van together and laid out a plan for how to proceed.

Initially, the plan had been simple. They’d go to the Coin-Op and grab a table. They’d order some food and drinks and just run surveillance waiting for Sam to see the girl from his dream. But, as they talked, Sam became less and less confident that his one brief glimpse of this girl in a grungy bathroom mirror would be sufficient to pick her out in a crowded bar.

Additionally, there were concerns as to how to make a quick getaway if they needed to. There was no parking at this establishment. The only street parking was down at the end of the block and around the corner. It was that or the parking garage they were currently camped in.

As they worked to come up with a viable strategy, the brothers bristled several times. Tensions boiled over when Dean tried to assign Sam to waiting with the van.

“What the fuck Dean? I’m the only one that’s had a look at this girl. And I’m the one that’s sitting in the van?”

“Sammy, you said it yourself. You haven’t gotten much of a look at her.”

“Dean, I don’t…”

“Sammy, I know,” Dean interrupted. “I’ve been there. When we went in for Lily, do you think I liked sitting in the getaway car like a chump while my _baby brother_ went in to rescue a hostage? You think I fuckin’ liked that?”

Sam didn’t answer. Cas wondered what he was thinking.

“I fuckin’ hated it,” Dean bellowed. “And I’m sure Cas didn’t like waiting at the fuckin’ car while you and me went into that vacant hospital for Sarah either. But at the end of the day, we have to do what makes the most sense. And this makes sense. Sarah can use her mind link to talk to most of us so she’s taking point. When the shit hits the fan, she’ll call out to you and you’ll swoop in with the van.”

“Lily could take my place in the van.”

“Lily’s gonna be next to Sarah. She’s more deadly than any of us. She’ll keep Sarah safe.”

Cas watched Sam lose out to Dean’s logic, which was sound.

“Why can’t I partner with Andy?” Sam complained, grasping at straws.

“Because,” Dean teased, using humor to put the issue to rest, “I want the chance to see Andy mind-fuck someone besides me.”

The group shared a nervous laugh as Sam finally nodded in agreement to the plan. Sarah took out a pen and flipped over one of the empty pizza boxes from their lunch and drew out a rudimentary sketch of the area.

“Okay,” she said firmly, “just to be sure I understand how all this will work…”

Everyone watched as she laid it out like a football play using X’s to indicate each of their positions within her map.

“So, Lily and I will be here, at the mouth of the alley, and we’ll be watching the back door and dumpsters from there.”

Dean nodded agreement.

“And here’s where Cas will be, right Dean?” she asked, indicating the intersection of K Street and 9th.

“Yep, from there he can see the entrance and still have an open line of sight to you girls while you’re watching the rear door.”

“And Sam will be in the van,” she added, placing his X in the parking garage, “while Andy goes into the bar with Dean.”

“Yep, that’s it. That’s the master plan.”

“Tell me again why I need to be here in the parking garage,” Sam challenged. “It seems like I’d get to the girls faster if I was parked on the street near Cas.”

“We’ll park Baby there,” Dean answered curtly. “She can sit on a parking meter and be close when we need her. But we shouldn’t leave Andy’s van parked on the street. It’s too conspicuous. Anyone who walks past it is going to remember that van being there. And if a bunch of witnesses start telling the cops about that van, we’ll have to dump it.”

“Aw, you’re really starting to like this van aren’t you,” Lily teased.

“Dean,” Andy interrupted, “I’ll dump you before I dump my baby.”

Again the group shared laughter as they set aside the pizza box and climbed out of the van.

“Alright Sammy,” Dean said jokingly, “cut the population of possibles in half for me. Am I lookin’ for a blonde or a brunette?”

“Dark hair, shoulder length,” Sam pouted.

“Alright then,” said Sarah, taking a deep breath, “are we ready?”

 

 

 

Cas climbed into the Impala and then drove down the exit ramp, out of the parking garage. On 9th street he pulled into an available parking space and fed the meter.  Once he’d locked up the car, he walked slowly to the corner where he’d be posted for the remainder of the evening. There was plenty of foot traffic to blend into as people wandered in and out of the various food and shopping establishments in the area. Also, there was a bus stop nearby so it didn’t seem conspicuous for him to be loitering there.

 

 

 

Dean had been in the bar for less than a minute when he had his first moment of doubt.

“I fuckin’ hope this is the right place,” he whispered to Andy.

“You’re not sure?” He gaped incredulously.

“Not anymore.”

“Why?” Andy asked as they moved through the light crowd.

“The wristband. Sammy said she had an orange wristband. You see any wristbands?”

Andy didn’t answer, but Dean could see his facial expression change as he looked around and saw that no one was wearing one. Dean’s throat tightened as he considered how badly Sammy would take it if they were unable to save this one. He’d never stop blaming himself.

Time seemed to drag as they circled the room several times. The crowd grew thicker, and by ten o’clock there was so much activity near the door that it was a clusterfuck. Around them there was a ringing and dinging of games like pinball as well as the tinny, electronic sound of video games like Pac-man and Donkey Kong. The noise of the games competed with the music and voices swelled as friends tried to talk over it all. There were lots of college kids here but thankfully the DJ was playing a diverse mix of music that spanned several decades rather than some kind of electronic club music.

 

 

 

 

“I hate to complain,” Sarah said, “but I think we got the short end of the stick.”

“Why?” joked Lily. “Just because everyone that walks past is mistaking us for hookers?”

“Well, yeah,” she giggled softly, “that too. But mostly, I’m just tired of standing.” She leaned against the brick wall again, trying to ease the load on her feet. “It’s one thing to walk for hours on end. But just standing? It really sucks.”

As the two of them rested their backs on the building, Sarah leaned around the corner and peeked out of the alley. Her eyes traveled down the length of 9th street searching out Cas. The streets were quieter now that it was dark. Cas was pacing and his eyes flicked to her occasionally. It felt good to know he was close if they needed him. She returned her eyes to the alley but there wasn’t much to see. It was deserted and the only lights were near their end, the middle and far end of the alley was dark as pitch. Her mind flicked to Sam and she used her minds voice to send him a message. “Nothing yet.”

 

 

 

 

 “I’m gettin sick of walkin in circles,” complained Dean.

“Yeah,” Andy agreed, “We should probably just watch the back door.”

“You’re right,” he nodded.

“What?”

“You’re right,” he shouted louder.

“I didn’t hear you,” Andy said, waiting for him to repeat himself again. At that moment, he burst out laughing as he realized that he was being toyed with; Andy just liked hearing Dean say that he was right and had tricked him into saying it repeatedly. As they laughed, Dean popped Andy on the shoulder with his fist.

“You make it too easy,” Andy commented as they resumed worming through the crowd. “I don’t even have to mind fuck you anymore.”

As they turned to head towards the back of the bar, commotion at the entrance caught his attention. Someone had fallen and others were helping her up. But that wasn’t what held his gaze.

“Wristband,” he said, drawing Andy’s attention to the petite brunette who’d just walked in. It was easy to see even amid all the commotion. It glowed under the black lights. Dean was elated. This was it. She was here.

“Fuck. Me.” Said both men together as they watched a gaggle of girls come surging through the door. Three, four, five… he stopped counting at eight. They all had on the same exact wrist bands.

 

 

 

Cas hadn’t thought much about the wristband that Sam said their target girl would be wearing… at least, not until he watched a large group of girls line up for entry wearing similar ones. They appeared to know each other, talking and laughing as they waited in line. Most were dressed in shorts or short skirts and their footwear hardly looked comfortable. He glanced back down the street towards Sarah and Lily. When his eyes connected with Sarah’s, he didn’t look away. He stared at her intensely, knowing that doing so would get her attention.

A moment later, her voice rang out in his head clear as a bell. “Is there trouble?”

He shook his head no.

“Did you see her?” she asked.

He nodded yes and then followed that gesture with a shrug, hoping to convey his uncertainty.

“Is that a maybe?” she asked.

This time he gave her a firm nod. Even from this far away, he could see the two girls come to attention. They no longer sagged against the wall but stood tall and alert, glancing his way every few minutes.

 

 

 

Dean and Andy did the best they could. There were probably a dozen girls with wristbands on. About half were blonde and thus able to be eliminated. But that still left a half dozen possible targets and only two men to watch them. As the girls spread out around the bar, it became impossible to keep track of them all.

“Even if we split up we can’t cover them all,” Dean barked.

“Well then, fearless leader, what’s your suggestion?”

“We know for sure she’s going to go into the bathroom, Sammy saw it in his vision. Let’s stake out the ladies room.”

“What good will that do?” complained Andy, “Sooner or later they’re all gonna go in there. We still won’t know which is our girl. I vote we just watch the back door.”

“Fine, you go ahead and do that,” said Dean, “But don’t be obvious. I’m gonna take another pass around the room.”

Dean kept his eyes peeled for girls wearing the band as he pushed through the crowd. Whenever he saw one with dark hair, he tried to watch who she was talking to and how she was acting. This was the longest he’d ever spent in a bar without drinking. He knew better than to start tossing back shots, but as hot and thirsty as he was, he would’ve sold his soul for a bottle of water. With that thought in mind, he headed to the bar. As he leaned there and waited for the attention of a bartender, a small group caught his eye.

One of the girls clustered near the bar was wearing a band, which meant she was a possible target. She was talking with a group of people. Dean liked the look of her. She was one of those girls that was more cute than pretty. Her eyes were large and doe like; she had a button nose. Her smiles were wide and uninhibited which gave her a very “girl next door” kind of look. She didn’t have the sluggish look of someone who’d been drugged, but she was definitely drunk. She swayed occasionally and laughed too loud.

If he hadn’t had to wait so long for service, he’d never have noticed her dynamic within her group of friends. But once he’d seen it, Dean couldn’t deny that it didn’t sit right. She was sandwiched between two guys – one at each of her shoulders. The taller and more attractive one was aloof and paid her no attention. But, she wanted him. It was painfully obvious as she hung on his every word and continually found excuses to move closer to him.

The other guy, the one to her right was clearly interested and aggressive about it. He was smaller and less handsome and despite his advances, she paid him no attention. When he finally had the drink he’d been waiting for, Dean pushed away from the bar and continued to move around the room. He glanced back to the bar occasionally, planning to keep an eye on the cutie pie girl. So far she was the most likely candidate but he didn’t want to stop watching everyone else until he was certain.

As his route took him towards the back of the bar, he stopped to fill Andy in on the situation.  Together they moved through the crowd, stopping to lean on an empty pinball machine. This new vantage allowed them a view to the group at the bar without losing sight of the back door. Dean kept his eye on the rear exit while Andy watched the little group for a while and eventually agreed that he was seeing the same dynamic. When the aloof guy moved away from the group, he pulled another girl with him. That left the cutie pie girl with only her aggressive admirer. Andy laughed out loud when Dean dubbed him ‘the sniffer.’

They watched carefully when the sniffer bought her a drink but he didn’t add anything to it. She tolerated her suitor for a few minutes and then began to try and distance herself. She felt uncomfortable with him, that much was clear. Cutie pie girl walked a few steps over to join another group of friends and soon they were all playing skee ball.

It wasn’t ten minutes later when the sniffer moved back in on her again. He brought her a drink. Neither he nor Andy had seen the guy order the drink so they had no way of knowing if he’d put anything in it. They found themselves watching powerlessly as she accepted it from him and drank.

“Fuck,” muttered Dean.

“Keep your eye on her,” said Andy, turning to leave.

“Where you goin?”

“I’m gonna go talk to the other guy, the one she liked, and see what I can find out.”

Dean turned his attention back to the girl as she begrudgingly handed her suitor two of her skee-balls and allowed him to join her game. The two girls she’d been playing with stepped away, moving towards a nearby machine that had just opened up. This poor girl was now one-on-one with the sniffer.

Looking back over his shoulder, Dean caught sight of Andy. He was careful not to look away from Cutie pie and Sniffer for too long, but it was enthralling to watch Andy in action. Dean was used to being the butt of Andy’s jokes. It was something else entirely to watch him charm a complete stranger… using his powers for the greater good.

The music was loud, blaring over the sounds of video games and voices. It was Styx singing Come Sail Away. Dean had always liked this song - it was one of their best.

 “Her name is Brandy,” informed Andy when he returned. “She doesn’t know the sniffer. The guy she actually likes, his name is Stephen.  They’re lab partners in chemistry. He said that the sniffer dude is just some guy that came up to her here. He’s a stranger.”

“He’s the one,” Dean said with conviction.

“Looks that way,” Andy agreed. “What now?”

Just as the question was posed, Dean saw the girl swoon and the sniffer reached out to steady her. As the man steered her towards the back of the bar, Dean didn’t need to be near them to know what he was saying to her. It was the oldest line in the fucking book. “Hey doll, you look like you could use some air.” It was something that sounded creepy no matter who said it. But for some reason, girls almost always followed along when offered this course of action.

“Follow her,” Dean answered, and they started moving. “I was expecting her to use the bathroom,” he complained as they worked to cross the crowded room.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Andy answered, “That band on her wrist means this isn’t the first place she’s drank tonight. Your brother could’ve seen her in the bathroom of some other club.”

“Good point,” he said as the pushed through the crowd. “Don’t lose her.”

The crowd was thick, and they’d been watching from so far off that Dean was beginning to doubt their ability to reach them before they went outside. As they shoved between sweaty college kids, Dennis DeYoung sang passionately about angels and aliens, “Come sail away, come sail away, come sail away with me.”

 

 

 

Sarah was on edge now that Cas had signaled them. Lily seemed to be feeling the same way. The back door had swung open several times over the course of the evening; but each time had been a false alarm. It was always just an employee coming out to drop a bag of garbage into the dumpster or to stand and have a cigarette in the relative quiet of the alley before returning to work. The employees had paid them no attention, but they’d been the subject of some whispers and strange looks from passersby. That’s why Lily had joked about them being mistaken for hookers. But, no one had actually spoken to them directly. That’s why it took Sarah off guard when someone actually did.

A small but obnoxious group of college-age boys called out to them as they approached. At first, it was comical that these boys were drunk enough to actually try and pick them up. But, unable to take the hint when turned down politely, Sarah was forced to speak plainly and give them a firm no. Still, they lingered menacingly.

Sarah was surprised by this development. She’d been expecting that if they ran into trouble… it would be of the Eric variety…someone Lily would kill to keep them safe. She’d not planned on needing to be saved from garden variety assholes that Lily couldn’t possibly justify touching with her fingers of death.

The girls glanced at one another when they heard the creaking sound of the door swinging open in the alley and its subsequent bang when it snapped shut again. But from where they stood, neither could see far enough down the alley to know who had just come out that door.

Sarah tried sidestepping the ringleader of the drunkards and moving back around the corner to check the area near the dumpsters. But sadly, her progress was blocked by a menacing presence. “C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” the man slurred, trying to keep her from leaving.

As her heart started to race, she was relieved to hear Cas’ authoritative voice from behind her. “Is there a problem here?”

“No man, no,” said the pushy guy, backing away with his hands up. The rest of the group looked suddenly repentant… as if they only now realized that they’d crossed the line. The men moved on then without further discussion.

“You alright?” Cas asked them.

“Yes,” Sarah said with relief, “Thank you, Cas.”

He nodded as he turned away from them and began walking back to his corner. The entire exchange took less than a minute, but when the girls took the few steps back into the alley, it was deserted.

“Didn’t I hear the door?” asked Lily beside her.

“Yeah,” she answered, taking a tentative step forward, “I thought I did too. Maybe it was just someone taking out the trash again.”

Just as she said that, Dean and Andy pushed through the door. Sarah was walking towards them as she watched them look left and then right, clearly searching the dark alley for someone.

“Hey guys,” she called as she and Lily closed the distance. “Did we miss something?”

“The girl…” panted Andy, wiping sweat from his forehead, “we followed her out…”

Dean was already moving, shoving past Andy. Sarah stopped in her tracks to watch as Andy followed behind Dean with caution. The two stalked up on the closest set of dumpsters, giving a wide berth. From the other side of the steel door, music pulsed softly as it had most of the night. The fluorescent light above the door was humming noisily and the sounds of light traffic on the street were muted but present as they waited for Dean and Andy to reach the back side of the dumpsters.

Suddenly, the relative silence was broken by Dean’s rough voice. “Get the fuck off her, you parasite,” he growled as he dove behind the dirty receptacle and began dragging someone out. Sarah felt her body go cold as her brain caught up with the likely scenario. The girl they’d come to rescue must be on the ground behind that dumpster and Dean was pulling someone off of her. Sarah’s eyes fastened on Dean’s form as a struggle ensued.

“Not so fast, you piece of shit,” Dean was saying as he grasped the guy by the scruff of his neck and flung him against the brick building. The guy looked so small, his feet scrambling for purchase as Dean heaved him up higher. The young man rasped and gurgled as he choked for breath, his shoes now dangling a few inches above the ground.

“It’s not what it looks like,” the kid garbled, tears streaking down his cheeks, “She was into it… she was.”

“Oh really?” Dean said in the most sadistic voice Sarah had ever heard him use. “Tell me how much she wanted you.”

“What are you, her brother or something?”

Sarah felt her stomach turn and revolt as she listened to the guy say, “She wanted it. She did. I didn’t drag her out here, she came out with me.”

“Is that right,” Dean said menacingly as he leaned into the kid's face.

“It’s the truth,” the kid whined, feet dangling and hands gripping Dean’s forearms tightly as he gasped for breath in his chokehold. “I swear to God man, I would never… I would never rape a girl. This looks bad, I admit it, but that’s not how it went down man, it’s not.”

Sarah watched, Lily on her left and Andy on her right as Dean slowly lowered the kid back down. The moment his feet touched asphalt, the kid was trying to get away. But it was pointless. Dean’s grip was iron. With a single hand he easily held the boy against the wall while his other hand dug into his jacket for a weapon. The kid begged and squirmed and swore he was innocent – just a normal guy having a little fun and the girl in question had simply passed out at an inopportune moment. His pants, unzipped and down around his thighs, were sliding lower as he thrashed.

A shiver worked its way up her spine as her eyes caught the shine of smooth metal in the shadow of Dean’s body. It was his machete. He’d been practicing with it for a while now, though Sarah had not noticed him carrying it tonight. She watched slack jawed as Dean raised the blade to the boy's throat.

“You’re lucky I’m not holding this next to that pencil you call a dick,” Dean said. Sarah felt Andy shifting uncomfortably next to her as Dean’s hand moved lower on the guy's throat so he could press the sharp edge of the blade right up against the thin skin stretched over his adam’s apple. “Now, next time you’re thinkin’ of pullin’ that dick out, you best make sure someone’s fuckin beggin you for it. Cause if there’s any chance you’re puttin that sorry little prick where it doesn’t belong… I’ll be there to cut it off. You hear me, fucker?”

“I’m not a rapist,” the kid blubbered, “I swear man, I would never…”

“You did,” Dean said icily. “You were raping that girl when I pulled your scrawny ass off of her. You think just because you didn’t beat her up first that it wasn’t rape? Huh? Is that what you think?”

“I – I don’t…” the kid’s voice trailed off then, and Sarah felt Lily’s gloved hand snake under her arm, seeking support. She leaned in and wrapped her arm around her friend, wanting to reassure but unable to take her eyes off the sight before her. The entire scenario had shaken her to the core. In fact, her befuddled mind hadn’t even remembered to call out to Sam. It was the sole reason she’d been assigned this post. Snapping out of her haze now, she closed her eyes to the gruesome scene in front of her and called out to Sam, channeling her thoughts to send him the message, “Dean’s got him.”

When she opened her eyes again, they fixed on a drop of blood as it ran down the boy's neck. Dean was resting the sharp edge of his machete a little too heavily on this kid’s neck and the skin had broken. His voice was full of hatred as he spat out words, his face inches away from the terrified man.

“You think that just because you didn’t beat her up or tie her down that you’re less of a rapist?”

“No, no, no,” he blathered senselessly, “I… I didn’t…”

“Stop saying you didn’t,” growled Dean, “We all fucking saw you. Even before you came outside, you worked that girl over… you lurked around all night and waited til she could barely stand… then you brought her outside and pulled her behind a fucking dumpster.”

Dean’s voice was sharp and every bit as cutting as a blade. “If she wanted to fuck, then you’d have taken her to your place. But you didn’t, didja? You took her to the only place you could have her. On the fuckin dirty ground in a dark alley.”

“You’re gettin’ off easy this time kid,” Dean said as he retracted his blade. “Next time you do this… I’ll fuckin come for you. And I’ll chop that sorry excuse for a dick off _before_ I slice your throat. You got it?”

Sarah watched the kid gather his wits about him. He seemed to sense that Dean was about to let him go and was planning to waste no time making his escape. Then, for the second time in as many minutes, Cas’ voice startled her as he spoke from over her shoulder. She had no idea how long he’d been standing behind her.

“Dean,” said Cas, “he’s a dark.”

Dean nodded acknowledgement and Sarah watched him laugh manically and say “You were so close – I almost let you walk the fuck outta here.”

The boy’s reaction was swift and immediate. The hopeful eyes were gone in a blink and sheer terror returned to dominate his features. Dean pushed him back against the wall. The guy closed his eyes and clenched his face… he looked like someone who’d just bit into a lemon.

“Open your eyes,” Dean barked threateningly as he returned the blade to the guy’s throat. “Take one last look around.”

“Please,” the guy begged, tears streaming down his cheeks, “Please… I’ll be good. I swear. It’ll never happen again. Please… please…”

Dean shook his head and even from five feet away, Sarah could feel his hatred for this kid. It radiated from him.

“You’re gonna be found behind that dumpster,” Dean said. “They’re gonna find you with your tiny little dick hanging out, and everyone’s gonna know how pathetic you really are. Everyone.”

The boy was crying hysterically now. Sarah could see that he’d given up on begging. He knew it wouldn’t save him. His eyes were scrunched shut and behind them, no doubt, this kid was imagining the scenario that Dean was conjuring for him. It was sickening to watch.

“Open your eyes,” Dean said in a whisper.

The boy shook his head no, as if keeping them closed would somehow keep the worst from happening.

“Open your eyes and look at me!” Dean roared. “You’re a sorry sack of shit. Now look at me when I end you. Look at me bitch!”

With that, the boy’s eyes popped open and focused on Dean. It was the last face he’d ever see and Sarah saw it too… full of righteous indignation and justified vengeance.  She squeezed her eyes shut as Dean shoved the blade forward with both hands and lobbed off his head. The sound was sickening, she could hear the squick of blade slicing through wet tissue and the crack of bone. She heard the plop of his head as it hit the ground. The noise was reminiscent of pumpkins being smashed in the street on Halloween.

Sarah turned away before opening her eyes, not wanting to see the aftermath. She’d known that Cas killed Darks. But to see someone actually executed in real life was nauseating. Cas had his arm around both her and Lily then, turning them away from Dean. From the other end of the alley, she heard an engine rev and knew that Sam had arrived. His approach was timely - her knees were weak and her head was spinning and if she didn’t sit soon she knew she’d fall.

“Don’t look,” Andy said as he joined Cas in helping them stagger towards the approaching van. But as she walked by, she couldn’t obey. Despite all logic, she turned her head to glimpse the carnage in the alley.

The rapist hadn’t been particularly large or threatening. He’d looked like any other college kid. But with the life force drained from his body he appeared child-like, nothing but a pile of limbs. She didn’t see his head and she didn’t look for it, but it wasn’t attached to the body. There was a lot of blood and Dean had, as promised, left the boy to be found with his pants around his knees. For a fleeting moment, Sarah had nothing but pity for the mother of this boy. Even for him. He’d been evil, but still, did his punishment fit the crime? Was rape deserving of a death sentence? He’d been killed solely on Cas’ assertion that this guy had a dark soul.

As Sarah was guided to the van, her mind was slogging through the ethics of what had just happened. Everything to seem like slow motion for her, but around her, activity was swirling fast. The van door had slid open and Sam was there with open arms, pulling her inside. As she was guided to the mattress in the cargo area, she croaked out, “I need a bag,” thinking she would soon vomit. Sam squeezed her hand, and as he left her side to get what she needed, she saw Dean step up to the side of the van. He was covered in blood and carrying a young girl in his arms. She was out cold.

Cas helped him get the girl inside, and then Sarah moved over so they could lay her out on the makeshift bed. Her nausea was soon forgotten as she tasked herself with taking care of this young lady. Suddenly Lily was beside her.

“Help me?” Lily asked.

Following Lily’s gaze, Sarah’s eyes fell on the girl’s legs. Her pants were still down and Lily was trying to get the poor girl covered. Together they pulled the shorts up and covered her over with a blanket. With that task complete, both girls leaned back against the wall of the van and exhaled deeply. Sam was hitting the gas while the cargo door was still open. Dean slid it shut and turned to them, asking, “You girls okay?”

Sarah nodded silently, unable to find any words. Dean turned away from them and moved to the front of the van. Sarah was amazed at the way the guys were acting. Sam, his brother, even Cas. They seemed fine and were even joking around.

“Will you drive Baby for me, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Too bloody to drive your own car?” Sam teased. “You could learn a thing or two from Cas. He never gets bloody.”

The van lurched to a stop and Dean moved to the passenger side as Cas exited. Then they were moving again. The brothers were speaking quietly as they drove out of Sacramento to the north. But in the back, she and Lily were quiet. They tended to the girl, and nothing they did woke her. She was so still, in fact, that they checked her a few times to be sure she was even breathing.

“How is she?” Sam asked when they stopped at a filling station.

“She’s out cold,” Sarah answered.

“She’s not just drunk,” Lily added, “she’s on something.”

“Strange, right?” Dean said from up front, “She doesn’t fit the pattern. I was startin to think that everybody Sammy dreams about is gifted. Like you guys. But this could just be some sweetie pie college girl who isn’t gifted at all. When she wakes up, she might be able to just go home.”

“Well, we’ll know in the morning,” Sarah said. “Maybe we shouldn’t drive too far… you know… in case she actually is just a normal girl who _can_ just go home. Why drive all night back to the cabin if we might end up having to just bring her back here tomorrow, right?”

“I won’t argue with stopping for the night,” Lily said wearily. “And,” she added, eyeing Dean’s bloody clothes, “You could use another shower.”

“Yeah,” Dean answered, “we can’t all do it like Cas does. If I kill somebody… it fuckin shows. I don’t know how he does it, but the man never even gets a drop on his shirt.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Sam, leaning in from outside where he’d been pumping gas.

“We’re gettin’ a room Sammy,” Dean answered. “Gonna stay local till she wakes up.”

 

 

 

 

From the gas station it had only been a stone’s throw to a hotel. Considering how bloody he was, there was no way he could go inside the office and book their rooms. So, he sat back in his seat and sent Sam inside with Cas to do it. Then they pulled around to the back of the lot and worked as a team to get the unconscious girl from the van to her room.

“Her name is Brandy,” said Andy as they laid her on the bed.

Sarah moved to the sink and returned with a wet cloth, dabbing smudges of dirt from Brandy’s face with it. He watched with Sam and Andy for a few moments as both Sarah and Lily worked to pick dead leaves and pieces of yuck from the unconscious girl’s hair. When they moved on to taking off her shoes, Dean knew what was next. The girls would want to get her out of the wet and mucky clothes. He knew they’d need privacy.

“You girls got this?” he asked.

Lily nodded and said she’d stay with Brandy tonight. Sarah smiled softly and said she would too.

Seeing that Brandy was in good hands, he thumped his brother on the arm and said, “Let’s leave them to it, huh?”

“You wanna crash in my room?” Sam asked Andy.

“Yeah, thanks man.”

“No problem. The girls will stay with her until she wakes up,” Sam responded. “May as well let them have their privacy.”

Dean parted company from them when he caught a glimpse of Cas, who was still out in the van. Walking up behind his friend he leaned up on the exterior of the vehicle.

“Hey,” he greeted as his eyes roved over the tacky ’70s graphic painted on the side.

“Hello Dean.”

“Whatcha doin?”

“Cleaning the blood,” Cas answered. “You may as well take the first shower. I’ll be out here for a while.”

“Okay,” he agreed as he pressed a keycard into Cas’ palm. “See you inside.”

Hot water showers and clean sheets were a long-forgotten luxury until these last few days and now, with the girl found and rescued, he could finally enjoy it. He stayed under the hot spray for a long time and shampooed his hair twice. As he stepped out of the shower, Cas was climbing in.

While getting dressed, Dean was thinking about how rough he’d been the last few days. He’d bitten off everyone’s head at least once. Sadly, Cas hadn’t been an exception to his crankiness. His friend hadn’t seemed to be irritated by his lousy temper, but regardless, Dean felt like he should do something to make it up to the guy. A smile crept up on him as an idea took shape in his mind. Once he was dressed he slipped out the door and over to the room that Andy and Sam were sharing tonight. His knock was answered by Sam who stepped aside to let him in.

“What’s this?” he joked as he took in the scene, “Happy hour?”

“Pick your poison,” replied Sam, pulling a few more little bottles out of the mini fridge. “We’ve got rum and vodka.”

“No whiskey?”

“Sam beat you to it,” said Andy from across the room.

“Sammy – you know you secretly want the rum. Why not just let me take that nasty whiskey off your hands, huh?”

“Not a chance,” laughed his brother, “There’s a fridge just like this in your room, go get your own.”

“He probably drank it already,” Andy teased, “That’s why he’s here.”

“Nope,” grinned Dean, “Don’t you ever get tired of being wrong?”

“What then?” Andy challenged.

“I need your keys to the van,” Dean told him, hoping Andy wasn’t going to use this as an opportunity for a mind-fuck. Surprisingly, Andy didn’t even comment. He simply tossed over the keys and returned his attention to something in his lap.

“Where’d you get that?” he said, his eyes finally landing on what Andy was doing in his lap.

“Oh, yeah, I scored this from Stephen.”

Dean felt his jaw drop. Andy was sitting cross legged on the bed and in his lap was the little plastic hotel tray that was meant to hold the ice bucket and glasses. On it he was picking the stems and seeds out of a pile of cheap weed.

“Who the fuck is Stephen?”

“The guy… the one that knew Brandy. Remember? I asked him about her. Its how we know her name.”

“I can’t believe you,” Dean laughed, wishing for the thousandth time that he’d been born with Andy’s gift. As Dean watched him, Andy crushed a soda can and asked him for a knife.

“Uh, I don’t have one on me,” he answered. “I just got outta the shower.”

“Here,” said Sam as he stepped around Dean and provided Andy with a small pocketknife. Dean watched him artfully poke holes in the aluminum to turn the crumpled can into a makeshift pipe.

“Andy,” Dean said sternly, “You’ve got a bong the size of an elephant’s dick in your van. You really gonna smoke that shit from a soda can?”

“I’d have to put on shoes to get the bong.”

Dean stood and stared for almost a minute.

“What?” Andy prodded.

“Nothin. I was just waitin for you to use your Jedi mind trick on me… make me go get your shit for you.”

“Nah,” he said, “I’m tired. Plus, I watched you lob a dude’s head off tonight. Pretty sure I’m done fuckin with you.”

Dean chuckled and looked over at his brother. Sam was clearly buzzed already and feeling good that their operation had been a success. Dean wondered idly if his brother had ever smoked out before. It was tempting to stay and watch his brother get fucked up… it would probably be funny as hell.

But, he had van keys in his hand and wanted to get moving. He said goodnight to them and left. He wasn’t tired yet but knew he’d probably crash soon. Right now he was just riding an emotional high that had outlasted his adrenaline rush.

Still smiling, he headed across the lot to his Impala. From the passenger side, he pulled out the small box of cassette tapes that he carried with him on the road. The selection wasn’t big. Mostly they were John's, left over from when his father had been the primary driver of this car. His eyes wandered over the selections… Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Allman Brothers, Bad Company and other classics that he’d grown up listening to. It didn’t take him long to decide what he was in the mood for. He grabbed Led Zeppelin II and thrust it into his pocket, locking up his baby before heading back towards his own motel room. Cas was out of the shower when he stepped in.

“Hey,” he greeted as he slid over to the mini fridge and pulled out a few tiny bottles. Cas nodded a greeting back at him and then pulled a t-shirt on over his head. He was paying Dean little attention as he dressed so Dean moved about the room and grabbed what he needed.

“You tired?” he asked, hoping that Cas wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet.

“Not yet,” his friend answered, giving him a questioning look. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yeah, kinda. Wanna go for a ride?”

Cas nodded agreement and put on shoes, following Dean out. They climbed into the van, and Dean pushed in his cassette tape. A rough and gritty guitar riff tore through the quiet and as they were easing out of the parking lot, Robert Plant’s raspy voice joined in. As they coasted along the deserted streets, Whole Lotta Love played. Dean headed east. He knew there was a river just a few blocks over and as he turned south and began driving parallel to it, he soon saw what he was looking for. A boat ramp. There were no other cars here, which was perfect. There were no streetlights either and just enough moonlight to see by.

Dean pulled up between two trees on the bank of the river and cut the engine. He let the music play though, and his eyes roved over the scene outside their windshield. The water was smooth as it slipped past them, silver moonlight bouncing off the few ripples that moved over its surface. Cas was still quiet and Dean brushed his finger across the man’s freshly shaven cheek as he got up and moved towards the back of the van. Cas followed him, and the two settled down on the mattress together. Dean made sure to watch Cas’ face as he flicked on the lights to the disco ball that dangled overhead. He was glad he’d been watching too – because Cas’ eyes lit up like those of a child at Christmas.

The soft colorful lights whirled around them and Dean put his arm out. Cas, as if it was second nature now, hunkered down against his body at the silent invitation. The two of them stayed silent as the song changed. The next song was one of his favorite slow songs of all time, What Is and What Never Should Be. The gentle guitar had a tender quality to it and lent a magical feel to their little hideaway. The ball sparkled as it spun, and Cas continued to watch it intently as Dean turned his head and put his lips to the his lover's shoulder. Cas was warm through his t-shirt and smelled fresh. Clean.

Pleasure spread over him as he pushed cotton out of the way and tasted Cas’ smooth skin. Dean shifted a little to get a better angle and then his mouth wandered up to Cas’ smooth cheek while his fingers found their way up under the soft t-shirt he wore. As the tempo of the song changed, the lyrics became urgent and energetic. And when the music changed, so did the mood. Dean felt a snap of electricity between their two bodies.

Cas seemed to feel it too, the charge in the air… the current that buzzed between them. He urged Dean on with soft moans and rolled onto his side, slinging his arm over Dean’s back. As their kisses grew more urgent, Dean felt Cas’ hand petting gently and soon it was slipping down inside Dean’s pants.

He wasn’t going to deny Cas his touches, but Dean was resolved to be a generous lover tonight and he made sure to keep that as his focus while the mood of the music shifted back and forth between sweetness and hotness.  With each change, Dean let his body follow the music. He kissed slow and deep, losing himself in the soft and intimate tangle of their tongues as the song drifted slow and easy. Then, when the guitars swelled and ground out a dirty refrain, he plunged his tongue down over Cas’ swollen cock aggressively and worked his man into a frenzy of want as he licked and sucked with reckless abandon. As he traced the lines of Cas’ lean body, Dean shoved their clothing out of the way indiscriminately just a few inches ahead of his eager mouth. He took his time too, laving his tongue over areas that are normally passed over in the heat of passion. He licked and sucked at the soft skin on the inside of Cas’ arms and the seldom touched areas at the back of his knees. He spread Cas’s legs and ran his tongue down one inseam and up the other.

By the time The Lemon Song started to play, Dean had Cas panting. He pulled his lover's legs farther apart and dipped his upper body between them, using his hands to guide each leg to rest squarely on his shoulders. Cas was fresh and clean from the shower, and the scent of it filled his nostrils as he worked his mouth up and down on his friend’s heavy dick. The scent of Cas’ natural musk came through, and Dean loved it. The smell shot straight to his groin, but even as it throbbed he didn’t take himself in hand. Tonight, he was all about Cas.

Dean sucked Cas’ dick like it was a full time job. He bathed every inch in his own spit and sucked balls into his mouth like they were candy. He snaked his tongue around the shaft and then suckled sweetly at just the tip, coaxing salty drops from the slit. Dean swirled his tongue over the head and sank down again, bobbing his head to work up a rhythm. He could hear Cas’ breaths coming harder and faster as he worked and when Cas was close, he pulled off to work his way down lower. He pulled Cas’ cheeks apart and sank his tongue between them. To get access to more, he hiked Cas up higher, pulling his hips off the mattress and licking a line up and down the crack. Cas became more and more vocal as he was gratified and his back bowed in pleasure, legs clamped like a vice grip over Dean’s back.

He encouraged Dean with frenzied hands and pleas for more that were loud enough to be heard over the scream of Jimmy Page’s legendary guitar. Dean gave it all he had. Overcome with lust and a desire to please his lover, he worked his tongue until it was sore. He thrust it into Cas’ entrance again and again, pressing ever deeper. As his tongue drew moans from his friend, his hands fumbled around in the pile of discarded clothes for the lube he’d tucked in his pocket.

Once he had slick, he worked his fingers in too, relieving his exhausted tongue and doing everything Cas begged him to. He worked them in one at a time, using his other hand to stroke Cas’ rock hard cock. As he jacked his man, Dean tried to keep his rhythm varied. Thick cock gripped tightly in his hand, Dean gave languid strokes as the fingers of his other hand twisted and scissored and hit the sweet spot every few strokes.

Between his own legs, Dean was swollen and uncomfortable but still, he didn’t touch. The denial was tantalizing and he thought he’d lose his mind when Cas heaved his body; grabbed his own ankles and held his legs open. It was such an erotic sight that he found himself wishing he could record it to watch again and again.

Tonight was for Cas to have what he wanted, so he wasn’t going to assume they’d fuck. All along he’d intended to do whatever he was begged to do. So, when Cas whispered that he wanted Dean inside him, his body was so grateful that he thought he might weep. His heart hammered behind his ribs as he realized he’d get to fuck tonight.

Sliding into Cas was like coming home. Fevered movements slowed as Cas’ body stilled beneath him. The two of them watched each other’s faces as they came together and all around them a thousand colorful lights swirled like magical fairies.

Cas’ nod was so slight, he almost didn’t see it. But as soon as he knew his man was ready, Dean started to move. He gripped his lover’s shoulders as he began to thrust, and he clenched his fingers tightly into Cas’ taut skin. As if the music was following them this time, a new song came on. It played on for them, its sentiment of love and acceptance perfect for Dean’s mood as his body made promises to Cas that he’d never be able to speak aloud.

Nearing climax already, Dean’s body warmed from the inside out. Beneath him, Cas’s face was desperate. Dean watched as his eyebrows furrowed and mouth locked open, and then Cas was coming, warm and wet between their bellies. His body was rigid as Dean fucked him through his orgasm and with just a few more pumps, Dean was coming too.

A soft keyboard accompaniment stayed with them as they calmed down after. They laid there for quite a while watching the twirling lights spin across the roof and walls of the van. Around them the air was thick with the smell of sex. Dean dug into the pile of clothes again and retrieved the bottles he’d swiped from the minibar. He held them out for Cas and let his man choose what he wanted. Then, as Cas had his first few sips, Dean cleaned their tummy’s with his own shirt.

It was pleasant to lay there together, watching the lights and listening to music. But, drowsiness was setting in.

“We should probably return to the hotel,” Cas said softly. “If the girl wakes up, she may want to leave immediately.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, hating to move. They got themselves put back together and moved back to the front of the van. Dean clicked off the lights as he settled into the driver’s seat. The music continued as they drove back and when they arrived at the motel, Dean noticed that there were no lights on in any of the rooms they’d rented. It was a relief. Weariness was setting in now and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He drug his ass to the bed like an old tired dog, Cas beside him and looking equally exhausted.

“Cas,” he said softly as they settled in together, “I know I’ve been a dick the last few days.”

“It’s alright, Dean,” whispered Cas, moving to embrace him under the covers, “I understand.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

“Tonight was…” Cas’ voice trailed off.

“What?” he prompted.

“I don’t know,” said Cas, exhaling a long sigh, “I don’t have words for it.”

Dean smiled in the dark. “Good.”


	5. Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to MoniJune who does such a lovely job and helps so much!

An urgent knocking pulled Cas from his slumber. He sat up and blinked awake as Dean scuttled out of bed. Knowing that whoever was at the door would want to come in, Cas hurried to get his sluggish feet moving. He stepped into his discarded pants from yesterday and was zipping them up just as Sam pushed through the door.

“We need you,” Sam said, looking only at Dean. “She’s up, Brandy’s up.”

“I’m comin’,” Dean grumbled as he pulled on his shirt. Then he looked at Cas and said, “We need to get to a laundromat today. I’m outta clean clothes.”

Cas didn’t answer, preoccupied looking for a shirt. Across the room, Sam was pacing as he spoke.

“Dean, hurry up. We need you over there.”

Cas watched as Dean stopped moving and focused on his brother. Sam looked distressed and impatient.

“Yeah, yeah, Sammy. Heard ya the first time,” Dean bit out. “But I just woke up so gimme a sec.”

“Why are you so upset?” Cas ventured to ask. It was then that Sam actually looked over at him for the first time.

“There’s someone else we need to get before we leave town.”

“Um, give us the short version, Sammy,” Dean instructed as he sat down to lace up his boots.

“The girls have been talking for a while now. Brandy woke up like… I don’t know… a few hours ago, maybe. She has a gift, she just didn’t know it until she talked to Sarah and Lily. She can tell when people are lying. Up til now she didn’t realize it was accurate or that it made her special; she just thought she had a knack for picking up on bullshit. But the girls have been trying to test her, and she’s been right 100%.”

“That’s intriguing,” Cas said, eyes connecting to Dean’s. “She’s got what Zar had.”

Dean gave an indecipherable nod and then kept his eyes locked on Cas as he asked his brother a question. “You said something about someone else?”

“Yeah, she wants to come with us. Says she’s got a friend that can read minds and she wants him to come, too.”

The room was quiet for a beat. No one moved. Then, in the silence, Dean said, “Fuck.” Their eyes were still connected and Cas sensed both elation and hesitancy coming from his bright.

“What is it, Dean?” he asked, wondering about his friend’s ambivalent reaction.

“Nothin’,” Dean dismissed with a chuckle. “A fuckin’ mind reader. That’s gotta be awesome.”

“But?” Sam pressed. Clearly Dean’s brother had also noticed Dean’s mixed reaction.

“Well,” Dean husked as he got to his feet and moved to the door, “a mind reader could be useful. But, fuck, it’s gonna be hard to live with. Andy’s bad enough.”

Sam let out a small huff of laughter as the three of them exited one room and walked down a few feet to the next door. Pausing with his hand on the knob, Sam told Dean that the girls wanted him to try and lie to the girl… test her more.

Dean nodded, and then Cas followed the brothers through the door. Brandy was seated on the bed. She was cross-legged, and her attention fell on Dean immediately. She looked at him the way most girls looked at Dean. Like he was something to eat. As always, the sight of anyone desiring Dean in a sexual way elicited two simultaneous responses from deep within Cas – jealousy and pride.

Cas watched Dean take a deep breath and begin to speak. The room was crowded now, both Sarah and Lily were seated at the table while Andy lounged on the second bed. Now that Cas and the brothers had crowded in and shut the door there was no room for anyone to move about.

Brandy’s eyes were still locked on Dean when he started to speak.

“Hi. I’m Dean, Sam’s brother, and this,” he said, dropping an arm casually over Cas’ shoulder, “this is Cas.”

Cas felt his chest constrict with affection as Dean left his arm draped there long enough to indicate possession. He saw Brandy’s face register the meaning behind the action and realize that Dean was not available to her as a sexual partner. Cas felt relief surge through his veins as Dean acknowledged their status to this newcomer.

“I’m Brandy,” she said with a small smile. “And I’m told that it’s you who decides if Evan gets to come with us?”

“Well,” said Dean, “I don’t know about that. We’re a group. We try to decide things together.”

Cas looked around the room at the faces of his friends and saw several smirks. Yes, they were a group, and they worked together. But Dean was the leader, and everyone knew it.

“Sammy says you wanna come with us,” Dean said, stepping forward. “Do you know where we’re headed?”

“Um, I’ve been told there’s a secret cabin,” she answered, “but I don’t know where it is.”

“It’s in Michigan. That’s a long drive. You up for it?”

“It’s not in Michigan.”

“Attagirl,” praised Dean, “but that was an easy one.”

Cas watched Dean as he dropped on the bed next to her. She giggled, and Cas found himself admiring her features. Her round cheeks were tinted with natural blush and her dark eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Now, let’s get real. If you go with us, you’ll have to drop off the grid. That means no friends or family. No phone calls, no texting, no Facebook. Indefinitely.”

“I already got this speech,” she chirped, pursing her lips. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“This isn’t a game, sweetheart,” Dean growled as he stared her down. “The people after us are serious shit. If you’re not in danger now, you will be once you join with us.”

Cas watched her nod, and then Sam jumped into the conversation.

“Brandy, we already talked about this a little, but I really need you to understand; most of us are here because someone is after us. We don’t believe that you were targeted like Sarah and Lily were. We think that your experience last night was an isolated incident. You might be safe to just go home.”

“Might be safe?” she questioned in response. “Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“Well,” Sam answered, “the life we’re living isn’t easy. It’s one thing living this way when you have to. But most of us would go home if we could… so if there’s a possibility that you actually can go home… then maybe you should.”

“And what about Evan?” she pressed, looking from Sam back to Dean.

“Tell me about Evan,” Dean said firmly.

“He’s my friend. We’ve been friends since middle school. We’ve been more than friends, off and on, for years now. He can read minds. It’s fucking cool. But he hates it. I thought it was driving him crazy, you know? Making him paranoid and stuff. He started talking about people watching him and following him a few months ago,” she said, looking down at the hands she’d folded in her lap. “I just thought he was losing his shit. I dismissed it. Dismissed him.”

Cas watched her animated face fall as she admitted to not believing her friend.

“He left home. He fucking ran away. I’ve only seen him twice in the last two weeks. He was staying at an old abandoned house, but I have no idea if he’s still there. He ditched his phone – thought they could use it to find him. And now,” she said, her eyes moistening, “I find out that he’s right… there really were people after him. He fucking needed me, and I just blew him off.”

“Brandy,” Dean said softly, “where is this house?”

 

 

 

Dean liked Brandy. He had a good feeling about her. Everyone crowded into the van together and they headed back towards town. It only took about twenty minutes to get back within the city limits of Sacramento, but finding the house wasn’t easy. Brandy had only been there once and kept getting turned around on the side streets. Dean watched from the back of the van where he was sorting through supplies as Andy drove. He didn’t think they’d need weapons, but it seemed best to have them ready just in case. Besides, he wanted something to keep his hands busy.

“That’s it!” Brandy proclaimed from the front. “That one on the left.”

Dean got to his feet and moved to the front of the van, kneeling between the two captain’s chairs to peer out the driver’s window.

“Yeah,” he said, “if I was looking to squat, I’d pick this place.”

Andy nodded, and Brandy looked at him questioningly.

“It’s got no close neighbors, and there’s lots of trees and bushes for concealment. It’s gated, and the house is set far back from the road. It’s across the street from a park. It’s perfect.”

“It’s disgusting,” she said tersely. “It’s full of trash and bugs and rats.”

“Well then,” Dean shrugged, “our shitty cabin will be an improvement.” Brandy smiled a little at that. “Alright,” he said to her, “let’s do this.”

She was a petite little thing, and every move she made was springy. Dean followed her out the passenger side and motioned for her to wait.

“Andy,” he said, leaning back into the van, “keep the engine running. Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” his friend answered as he moved to the front of the van.

“You’re with us.”

“What about us?” he heard Sam call from the back.

“Just keep your eyes open. We’ll be right back.”

Dean closed the front door of the van but opened the large sliding door just a crack for easy access in case they were in a hurry when they returned. Then he motioned for Brandy to start walking. Cas fell in beside him as they followed her.

She carefully worked open the wide gate of the chainlink fence that stretched across the driveway, and the three left it open behind them as they approached the house. Brandy knocked, and then they waited. The overgrown shrubs and trees on the property emitted a chorus of birdsong, but the place was otherwise quiet.

“Did you hear that?” Dean whispered to Cas when a muted squeak reached his ears. The noise was unmistakable, the protest of two pieces of ill-fitting metal when one slid across the other. It was the noise of a rusty aluminum window being slid open. Cas nodded acknowledgement of the sound and tipped his head to indicate he’d take to the left. Dean whispered to Brandy to stay put and then stalked off to the right. He and Cas both circled the house, losing sight of each other as they moved around opposite corners. Just as he stepped around a large bush, a streak of movement caught his eye. Someone was fleeing. Fast.

“Cas!” he bellowed as he gave chase. “Cas!”

Dean drew his Colt from its shoulder holster as he ran but didn’t take aim. He wasn’t able to run full speed, the uneven ground and overgrown lawn threatening to trip him with every step. As he cleared the back of the building, he kept his eyes on the spot where his target had vanished into the brush, but in his peripheral vision he saw Cas shoot out from the opposite end of the house and emerge into the back yard with him. As his friend closed the distance, Dean searched his mind for the name of the kid they’d come here to find.

“Evan?” he tried, slowing to a jog as he approached the thick hedges. It was far too easy to see where the guy had crashed into the brush. Following the trail slowly, Dean called out again. “Evan? I’m here with Brandy. We just want to talk.”

Silence.

“Evan?” he tried again.

Still nothing.

“Evan. If it’s you then show yourself, and I’ll put away my gun. If you don’t come out, we’re gonna assume that you’re not Evan and we’re comin’ for you. Armed.”

Dean’s eyes picked up movement a half dozen feet ahead; the unnatural dip of a branch that indicated deliberate movement. He knelt down, straining to see into the dark shadows under the leaf canopy while the bright sun beat down on the back of his neck. Behind him, Cas was covering his back. He was sure of it.

“C’mon man, Brandy brought us here to help ya. Don’t make it hard on us.”

A thready voice answered timidly, “Don’t shoot. I’m coming out.”

Dean kept his shooter’s stance until the silhouette of a gangly teen stood from a crouch and began making its way closer. The kid was armed, and he kept the weapon trained on Dean as he moved closer. Dean had to chuckle. The gun was a .38 special, which was precious enough on its own. But the way the kid moved was hard not to laugh at. He held the weapon like he was imitating a gangster he’d seen on television – sideways. And, he didn’t take his eyes off Dean. He wasn’t scanning their surroundings for other possible enemies… in fact, he had tunnel vision. As he waited for the kid to slowly approach them, his mind slipped back to their clearing near the cabin and conjured the memory of Cas lecturing the group about how it’s dangerous to carry a weapon when you don’t have the necessary skills. This kid embodied everything that Cas had taught them not to do.

As the boy moved in closer, Dean began to lower his weapon slowly. The kid mirrored his action, and both breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m Dean. This is Cas. Brandy says you’re in trouble, and we’re here to help. Wanna see her? Talk about it?”

The kid nodded, and when Dean stood and stepped back the kid stepped out of the brush and followed warily, weapon still in hand, as they walked to the front step where Brandy was waiting for them. Dean and Cas waited as the two hugged tightly. The kid shoved his gun down the back of his pants and relaxed his posture.

“Brandy say’s you’re a mind reader,” said Dean. “If that’s true, I guess you know who we are and why we’re here?”

“Kind of,” he said, gesturing in Dean and Cas’ direction. “You two have a lot going on in your heads, but I’m getting the gist of it.”

“Why’d you run?”

“When you knocked I looked out the window and saw a van. I’ve had one on my ass a few times and wasn’t taking any chances.”

“You got any questions?” Dean asked, unsure of exactly what the kid knew and what he didn’t.

“Maybe later.”

“Wanna get outta here?”

“Yeah.”

“Need to grab anything from inside?”

“Nope,” Evan responded with a wry sneer. “I travel light these days.”

Dean grinned in response and then turned to Brandy. He figured that in this moment she wouldn’t be expecting anything and he could test her again… see how easily she would catch a lie. “We should burn this place down,” he said. “Erase any trace of Evan having been here. My gift is starting fires. I do it with my mind. Wanna see?”

Brandy didn’t miss a beat. “Liar,” she said with a grin. Dean was impressed.

“His only real gift is his looks, and he knows it,” Evan said with dark chuckle.

“Fuck,” muttered Dean. Just what they all needed. A damn mind reader. He’d never be able to jerk off again.

Evan turned to Dean and said, “Why is it that jerking off is the first thing everyone thinks about as soon as they believe that I can read minds?”

Dean was stunned. The dude was looking right at him. Had Evan just heard that thought as it crossed his mind? Unsure, Dean responded with, “Huh?”

“I don’t care how often people get off,” Evan said with an eye roll, “alone or with company. So why’s that the first thing people are always afraid of me knowing?”

Dean’s jaw dropped and he shrugged, unsure how to respond since this kid was replying directly to things he’d never said aloud. Suddenly Evan burst out laughing and whirled on Brandy, obviously having heard something she only said in her head.

“Yeah,” he answered her, “it was the first thing you thought of too… the minute you first believed me.”

“It was?” she asked out loud, returning his grin with her own.

“Yeah. But I didn’t care. It was actually pretty hot.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. But,” he said, returning his eyes to Dean, “not so much with you. I don’t need the mental pictures of you pullin’ your own junk, okay? And yeah, I know about your gay shit, too, so stop picturing it.”

Dean chanced a glance at Cas and saw his man fighting down a smile. “Well, fuck,” he muttered, trying to shake the sexy images from his mind. “S’gonna be a long damn drive.”

 

 

 

Sarah looked around the table as she nibbled on her fries. Sam’s hand was resting on her thigh under the table. Getting to know their new friends over greasy burgers in a roadside dive was fun. They laughed long and loud as the newest members of their group learned of everyone’s gifts and toyed with them. Sarah had known from the moment Brandy woke that she would be a friend for life. Lily, as always, was standoffish at first. But fortunately, it didn’t take long for Brandy’s charm and charisma to ingratiate her to their group’s most deadly member. A pleasant surprise was the subtle effect Brandy had on Lily’s dynamic with Andy.

Sarah wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed it, but as they ate and talked, Lily seemed to show signs of feeling possessive over Andy. It seemed that she’d grown accustomed to being the object of his affection and didn’t like it much when he expressed interest in Brandy. Sarah watched surreptitiously as Lily slid closer than usual to Andy in the large corner booth they occupied. She bit down a knowing smile as she watched her friend take every opportunity to touch him. She thumped his arm when he made jokes; she brushed imaginary dust off his jacket, and she pinched his side when he teased her. All through the meal Sarah waited for Evan, the mind reader, to comment on Lily’s intentions towards Andy… he seemed to enjoy using his gift to put people on the spot. But he didn’t mess with Lily at all. Perhaps he knew from reading her mind that the subject was off limits.

When lunch was over, they all crowded back into the van. It was a short ride back to the hotel, and when they arrived they all dispersed to their rooms to gather dirty laundry. Then they split up. Dean and Cas took Brandy and Evan to the store to pick up some clothes and supplies. She and Sam took everyone’s laundry to the onsite facility and filled all the washers. When they returned, they found Andy and Lily on the bed. The two were laughing and passing a huge bong back and forth.

“Way to keep alert, Andy,” Sam laughed.

“Yeah, you weren’t complaining last night,” Andy teased back.

“Don’t let us forget to go back and change over the clothes to dryers,” Sarah begged as she settled on the bed and accepted the bong.

 

 

 

 

Dean watched Brandy and Evan carefully for that first day, trying to get a feel for each while also satisfying his curiosity about their status as a couple. They were fucking adorable together, that was for sure. But Brandy’s comment about them being “on again, off again” made him wonder what their current standing was.

He also spent a lot of time pondering what they’d be able to do in terms of sleeping arrangements. The cabin was already packed to the rafters. The couch wasn’t in use and that would be fine for Evan, but where would they put Brandy? He considered dividing the bedroom that Sam and Sarah shared into two rooms. It was the only room big enough to be cut in half and still fit a bed in each side. Adding two more tenants to their crowded living space was going to be a challenge.

He’d watched Brandy grit her teeth at the diner when she’d learned about how they had no electricity and needed to boil water over a fire for baths. But she seemed to get over it quickly enough. Now, with the hotel vanishing in the rear view mirror and the afternoon sun sinking low on the horizon, Dean stayed quiet and listened to Sam and Sarah talking in the backseat. Next to him, Cas leaned in and played with the radio, searching the dial for something familiar. When he found the Allman Brothers singing Midnight Rider, he relaxed back in his seat and began humming along. Dean smiled, content, as he watched Cas from the corner of his eye. The group stopped several times to gas up and change drivers, caravanning north and arriving at the cabin the following day.

 

 

 

Cas didn’t say much as their newest members became acquainted with the group, but he did focus his efforts on getting both up to speed with their training as quickly as possible. Evan was a quick study - probably because of his mind reading. He easily understood everything Cas said and didn’t say. Brandy was a bit slower and more reluctant to learn. But Cas could understand. She wasn’t afraid yet, that was easy to see. And honestly, Cas wasn’t in a big hurry to see her innocence shattered by exposure to the kind of danger that had fueled their group’s need to band together.

Within the first week, both Evan and Brandy showed significant improvement with weaponry. They’d quickly become part of the group too… Brandy becoming close friends with Sarah and Lily while Evan bonded mostly with Andy and Sam. It made sense, the three boys were close to the same age and they shared a similar sense of humor.

The fun of watching Andy mind-fuck Dean had been easily replaced by Evan’s notable ability to use his mind reading skills as comedic gold within the group. And, unlike Andy, Evan didn’t single out Dean. He toyed with absolutely everyone. Even Cas. It was more fun that way.

For the first few nights, Andy had taken the couch, allowing Brandy and Evan the use of his room. But one morning, Cas had come down the ladder early and saw the couch empty. It was very telling to watch Andy emerge from Lily’s room for breakfast, and the group wasted no time sinking their teeth into the guy and working him over mercilessly like a dog with a bone. When Lily walked into the room a few moments later, everyone was shushing each other and making a point not to look at her.

“That’s right,” she said boldly to the group. “Go ahead and get it out of your system.”

“Andy,” Dean had scolded firmly, “You can’t handle that girl. She’s too much for you, and she knows it.”

“She’s not an evil temptress,” Sarah laughed.

“But she’s out of his league, and we all know it,” Evan added. Brandy thumped his arm and scowled at him, but Evan was not dissuaded. “C’mon, he knows it too,” Evan laughed.

“I’m just a fish on a hook,” laughed Andy, sliding to Lily’s side and fully admitting he was lost on her.

Lily laughed, something she’d been doing much more lately. She winked at the group and purred to Andy, “Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.”

The winter season had descended now, the breeze no longer cool but icy. And on the first day that Andy and Lily were a couple, the first snowflakes blew in. They didn’t linger on the ground or pile up, but they fluttered beautifully against the backdrop of dark, naked trees as the group went about collecting firewood that afternoon. That night, as the wind howled outside the tiny cabin, the entire group snuggled around the fire. They talked and laughed and played drinking games as they passed around a bottle of whiskey.

With Dean tucked between his knees, Cas enjoyed the camaraderie of his friends. Somehow the cabin wasn’t too small despite so many bodies jammed into it. It felt warm and cozy, and Cas could feel happiness settling into his chest like a bird coming to roost on a tree branch. He knew it was fleeting… his bird would fly away at the first sign of danger. But for now, it was bliss to be tucked in amongst his friends sharing laughter and keeping close. Dean was happy, too; it was easy to tell.

His friend was facing away from him, but Cas could still see the warm light pulsing gently from within him. As the hour grew late and the bottle slowly emptied, Dean’s head must’ve grown heavier. He began resting it on Cas’ knee for short intervals. Without even thinking, he reached forward and let his fingers slide into his friend’s soft hair. Dean leaned into the touch and then looked over his shoulder.

“You ready to go up?” he whispered.

 _Yes. Always_. “Sure,” he answered aloud.

As they climbed the ladder up to their loft, Cas could hear some of the others also heading off to bed. He paid no attention to who was staying up with the fire though… his mind was already focused on what would happen when they got up to their room. When he reached the top, Dean was already kicking his pants off, and Cas watched his lover intently as he stripped off his own clothes. It was cold up here compared to the heat of the main room, which had a roaring fire and was packed with warm bodies. The change in temperature was refreshing at first, but as they slipped between the sheets, Cas felt a shiver creep up his spine. The bedding was so cold that it was almost crisp to the touch. The shock of it on his rapidly cooling skin sent him shimmying over into Dean’s space as another quiver ascended his spine.

Dean’s arms were warm as they pulled him closer, and the heat radiating from the core of Dean’s body was enticing. Cas shoved a leg between Dean’s and wrapped is other around the outside of his lover’s thigh so he could wrench himself in tighter. With his face pressing into Dean’s neck, and Dean’s chin resting on the top of his head, Cas shivered again, his body now warming back up. As they held each other for a moment, the murmur of indistinguishable voices below drifted up into their space, and Cas’ mind wandered off to imagine what Dean had in store for him tonight.

Eventually Dean did start to move, stroking his fingertips slowly up and down the soft skin on the backside of Cas’ arm… the underside where hardly anyone ever touched. It was very tingly, this touch, and it brought a smile to his face. Outside, the wind gusted alongside the cabin. As he laid there, thinking about sex and all the ways they’d had it, his mind seemed to slow a bit, thinking of his early days with Dean. He remembered with startling clarity how it had felt to walk into Dean’s bedroom for the very first time. His mind conjured for him the scent of the sheets on Dean’s bed and the sound of the city outside Dean’s window in Kansas City. He thought about how careful he’d been as he crawled into Dean’s bed that night… overly cautious not to touch Dean in any way lest he become uncomfortable.

Dean had been so tender then, his pain so patent that it was almost visible. Cas had been enthralled with his bright and so thrilled with their friendship that he’d barely noticed the sickening sadness that weighed the man down. It was just part of him, like his hair or his fingernails.

He’d laid beside Dean in that bed thinking of how wonderful it was that his friend had invited him into his home and made a place for him there… encouraged him to stay… shared his things… shared his time. It had been more than Cas had ever imagined when he’d been living without a dwelling. But even then, he’d wanted more. He’d wanted to touch. He didn’t, of course; he’d instinctively known better. But he’d wanted – oh how badly he’d wanted it.

They’d slept together nightly for a while, the only touch being that of Cas’ palm on Dean’s arm when he’d gently wake his friend from a nightmare. But then, one incredible night, Dean had explained what attraction was and allowed Cas a touch. He had reached out in the dark and placed his hand directly over the brightest part of Dean, his chest. And Dean had covered Cas’ hand with his own. That one touch had led to a kiss. And then as time went by there was more touching and more kissing and then there had been nakedness and skin on skin. And finally, here in this very cabin, Dean had touched him between his legs, wrapped his hand around him and brought him to life. He’d never been fully alive until that moment. Not even when adrenaline surged through his body or when his hands had been choking the life from something dark and evil. Never, ever, had he really been truly alive until that first orgasm with Dean. It had been so confusing at the time, but so all-encompassing and utterly consuming that the memory of it burned hot even now.

As Cas laid there with his cock throbbing between his legs… awakened by the carnal nature of his thoughts… he was struck by how much Dean had changed since they’d met. He wasn’t wearing his pain anymore. He wasn’t fragile at all. Cas was free to touch as he wanted; actually Dean encouraged his touching, touched him back. Dean spoke firmly and walked confidently. Even when he spoke of Jeff or had an occasional nightmare, it didn’t destroy him like it had back then.

Cas had changed too – he wasn’t the same as he’d been. Both of them were so different. The only thing that was the same was the wanting. That part never went away. With Dean he always, always wanted more.

With that thought in mind, he slid his hand down Dean’s back and rolled his hips forward. As he did, he felt Dean’s hardness rub against his own and Dean’s heavy hand moving between their bodies, gathering them up to stroke them together. Cas slid his fingers low, following Dean’s spine and letting them trail over his crack. The action produced a shudder, and Cas loved it. He repeated the action again and again, enjoying the sound of Dean moaning softly as they moved together. He pushed his fingers in between the cheeks greedily and toyed with the gathered skin around Dean’s hole. His man groaned for him, and Cas pressed his finger to the center of it and wiggled it around. In response, Dean’s breathing picked up and his hand moved faster on their dicks.

Suddenly Cas felt an abrupt shift and then Dean was sucking on his neck, hard. Encouraged, Cas pulled his hand away from Dean and sucked his fingers into his mouth. The bitter taste of Dean’s crack spread over his tongue, and he didn’t care. He let the flood of saliva wet his fingers and then shoved them back down to the hot, tight center of Dean. All the while, heavy hands worked between their bellies, building an intense feeling of _almost_. Cas squiggled his fingers until his longest was, again, pressing on the middle of the pleated skin at Dean’s entrance. He waited, not breathing, until he felt his lover’s body surrender. When he felt the circular muscle twitch erratically under his fingertip, Cas pushed his finger ahead gently and felt himself swallowed up – Dean’s body actively pulling the finger in. He was up to the second knuckle before he even had a chance to think, and then he came. He didn’t recall saying anything, but he must’ve because Dean was whispering to him, shushing him.

As they calmed down, Cas had to wonder when he’d broken a sweat. He’d been chilly when they’d crawled in together, but now they were so hot and sticky that Cas had to actually peel his body away from Dean’s. It was sad to move apart, but the cool sheets on his own side of the bed felt wonderful against his overheated skin.

“Move over more,” Dean chuckled. “I don’t wanna sleep in the wet spot.”

Cas slid a bit more, until his hip was at the edge of the bed. Here, where the sheets were still cool, he turned back towards Dean and they rested their heads on the pillow together, listening to the wind outside as they fell asleep.

 

 

 

Sarah woke early, the tail end of a forgotten dream nagging at her. She laid thinking about it for a while but, unable to recall it, she set her mind on starting breakfast. As she shimmied out from under Sam’s warm and heavy arm, she noticed something different about the light. Crossing the room to look out their window, she caught herself gasping at the view.

“Sam,” she said softly. “Sam wake up and come look at this.”

As he joined her at the window, she marveled at the glory of a winter morning. Everything was covered in a blanket of pure white snow. A few flakes were still spinning chaotically outside the window as the wind whipped around the corner of the cabin. The sky was a light shade of periwinkle, and in the distance were the hazy silhouettes of purple mountains. Between the trees outside their windows and the closest mountain peak was the lake. The water was reflecting the muted sky in some pastel shade that lingered between blue and purple.

“It’s beautiful,” said Sam, scooping her hair aside to lean in and kiss her cheek. “But it’s freezing. I’m going to start a fire.”

She’d not noticed how cold her feet, hands and nose were until he mentioned it. But now that he’d brought her attention to it, she couldn’t ignore it. Extra layers were needed to feel warm. When dressed, she made her way to the kitchen. As she was puttering about she paused, straining to listen as the softest whisper reached her ears.

“What’s for breakfast?” asked Sam, stepping up behind her.

“Shhh. Do you hear that?”

They both stood still as statues to listen for a moment. No one else seemed to be up, and the only sound was the wind outside and the newly lit kindling that crackled in the fireplace.

“Guess it was nothing,” she said, dismissing him.

“Can we have eggs with salsa?” Sam asked her.

“Sure,” she answered without looking, still distracted. A minute later, she heard the whispering again. Stopping to listen, she was able to make it out more clearly this time.

“What?” prodded Sam, probably wondering why she was staring off into space.

“Shhh,” she said again, “I need to hear.”

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the voice. That made it easier… yes… this voice was in her head. It was whispering to her and steadily getting louder. Indiscernible jumbles of consonants and vowels began to sound organized and soon she was able to understand the words.

“Can anyone hear me? Can anyone hear me? Can anyone hear me?” The voice was urgent, repeating the question over and over.

Thinking the words firmly and using her mind to propel them out from herself and into the void she answered, “I hear you.”

Silence. One long breath of silence. And then there was a barrage of information.

“Sam,” she gasped under the weight of it all, “Get paper… write this down.”

 

 

 

Dean yawned and rolled over, stretching his stiff limbs as his eyes opened slowly to the gray daylight of a winter’s morning. The wind still blew outside but it was quieter than it had been in the night and as he turned his head to peer at the window, Dean could see flakes swirling past it, a small pile of them nestled on the wooden framework of the window panes.

“Cas,” he whispered, “It snowed.”

Next to him, Cas stretched his lithe body and rolled to face their tiny window. Dean stayed in the warm cocoon at the center of the bed, but Cas slid out onto the floor on his hands and knees and crawled over to window to look outside. The man’s form was perfection as he rolled his shoulders back and sat on his haunches.

“Let’s go outside,” he grinned. It was impossible not to share in Cas’ enthusiasm. Dean shoved his way out from under a tangle of covers. It was cold in the room, and he launched himself into pants, pulling on two shirts and socks before heading down the ladder, a few steps behind his friend.

As they descended, Dean realized they weren’t the only ones up. Sarah’s voice was coming from the kitchen. By the time his feet were on the floor, Dean’s attention was focused on her. She was speaking urgently to Sam and he was writing in his journal… his pencil was moving fast over the paper and the two of them almost looked like a corporate executive dictating notes to an assistant. But Sarah’s eyes were closed. Not wanting to distract either of them from something important, Dean kept quiet and moved closer to try and read over Sam’s shoulder. His writing was barely legible, and his pencil was flying over the page. It all looked like gibberish to Dean. He glanced over at Cas, who seemed equally mystified. They stared at the spectacle for a few minutes and then it stopped. Sarah was silent, still standing with her eyes closed and one hand braced on the counter for balance. Sam watched her intently with his pencil at the ready in case she spoke again.

After several tense moments, Sarah opened her eyes and nodded. Whatever had just happened appeared to be over. Dean watched as Sarah moved silently to Sam’s side, and the two of them began going over the information he’d just recorded in his journal.

“When can we get briefed?” Dean asked, wondering when the two would explain what was happening.

“In a sec,” Sam said firmly. “Get us a map.”

Dean rushed out the door and into the newly fallen snow without a coat or gloves. He went straight to his baby and pulled the atlas from her glove box. When he returned, he stomped the snow off his boots before clomping back to the kitchen. Sam took the huge booklet from him and flipped it open to the front where a map of the entire US stretched across two pages.

“What?” Dean demanded. “Sammy, c’mon, fuckin’ tell me something!”

“His name is Jesse,” cried Sarah, her eyes welling with tears, “His name is Jesse. He’s just a little boy, and they’ve got him!”

“Shit,” said Dean, feeling clobbered by the information. He glanced over at Cas, who was watching Sam and Sarah. What they were doing was suddenly clear to Dean. Sarah had someone talking in her head. She had repeated the information out loud to Sam, who had been writing it down for her. Now they were going over the information and trying to make sense of it. If what they had scribbled in Sam’s journal was the scared ramblings of a little boy, it was probably going to need some deciphering. Best to leave his brother and Sarah to it.

“Cas,” he said, ready to take action, “we’re hittin’ the road. Get everyone up. I’ll start packin.”

There was a maelstrom of activity as all eight of them converged on the main area, tired and bleary and wearing bed clothes. Once the group had all been briefed, they split up to go pack. Dean saw Cas moving up the ladder and assumed he was going to pack some clothes for them. With snow already on his boots, Dean started carrying things outside. He ran down his mental lists of weapons, ammo, supplies, map, and burner phones as he packed them into the car and van. Then, as duffel bags started appearing near the door, he carried those out, too.

Some small part of him wished for the peaceful winter morning he’d woken up to. He’d wanted to play in the snow a little… watch Cas catch flakes on his tongue… scoop up some and lick it… throw snowballs. It was cheesy, but who cares. It was Cas’ first snow, and they didn’t even have time to enjoy it. The image of a young boy, scared and alone, floated through his mind and as it did, he found himself hurrying faster.

They were loaded and pulling out within the hour. For breakfast they ate granola bars as they drove. Dean and Cas were in the front seat, and behind them were Sam and Sarah with all the maps and the journal. They continued working as Dean drove slowly over the slippery roads, and the van followed along behind them with everyone else.

Progress was slow for several hours until they were far enough south that the roads were no longer snow covered. Sam and Sarah worked out the details as they drove while Dean and Cas sat quietly. No one turned on the radio, keeping it quiet so that Sarah could communicate with little Jesse. A quick stop at a library in southern Idaho proved useful and as they got back on the road, Sam seemed to feel pretty good about the information they had. The group drove all day and all night, stopping only for gas and bathroom breaks. With every stop they changed drivers and those not driving rested in the back of the van.

Daylight was just breaking when they exited highway 36 and took 73 into Hiawatha, Kansas. They drove towards the center of town and parked in the hospital parking lot, where Dean hoped that vehicles with out of state plates wouldn’t be noticed. This town was even smaller than Fulton. And, though he knew it was irrational, Dean couldn’t help feeling like they were noticeable outsiders here. The entire group crowded into the van for a strategy meeting.

Sam used the Streetview maps that he’d printed at the library to show the group an aerial view. And as he described the plan that he, Sarah, Dean and Cas had worked out in the car, the rest of the group asked their questions and prepared to move out.

“Okay,” said Sarah, obviously wanting to go over it one more time, “We are not going to have any cover. It’s broad daylight out there. Jesse is being held in the vacant building that used to be the Brown County Jail. Sadly, the new Brown County Jail is directly across the street, so this won’t be easy. Dean’s driving the van. It’s our primary getaway vehicle. Brandy will be driving the Impala. If all goes well, she’ll never even get out of the car. She’ll just wait in the alley until we’re done and then follow the van out of town. But, if anything goes wrong and we need her, she’s literally _right there_.”

Everyone nodded agreement, and though Dean was irritated at being relegated to driving the getaway car he knew their plan was sound.

“So,” Sarah continued, “the building is almost perfectly square, and we’ll have one person posted at each corner keeping watch. Each person should have a direct line of sight with two other people at all times. Cas will be at the northeast corner, Evan at the northwest. Lily will be at the southeast and Andy at the southwest. This is a jail, but Jesse isn’t being held in a cell. There’s no power I guess… and the cell doors are controlled by an electric switch. Since the cells aren’t operational, they’ve got him locked in a closet and the door is guarded at all times. He’s taken out occasionally to use the restroom, and they leave him alone in there so he’s managed to unlock a window for us. Sadly, he’s just a boy and has no concept of how to tell me which window. I’ll have to check them all. Sam is coming with me to keep watch while I’m checking windows and to boost me up when we find the open one. Once I’m inside, the closest corner guard will run over and boost Sam in behind me. The two of us will find Jesse and leave by the fastest and easiest exit. Then we flee. Any questions?”

The group looked amongst themselves and exchanged shrugs. It was simple. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if it was too simple.

“Remember,” Dean added, “if anything goes wrong or we get separated, we rendezvous back here at the hospital. It’s only four blocks east of the station.”

Sarah noticed Dean’s reluctance to hand over his keys and snatched them from him. She gave him a good natured wink and he didn’t fight her as she handed them over to Brandy. “Alright,” she said, hoping she appeared more confident than she felt, “This is it.”

“You be careful with my baby,” Dean warned as Brandy made to leave, “Treat her like a lady.”

Evan burst out laughing.

“What?” gruffed Dean.

“As much back-seat action as that Impala has seen… how dare you call her a lady?”

“You shut your mouth,” he barked, unable to come up with a snappy comeback on the spot.

“Your baby’s slutty secret is safe with me,” Brandy giggled as she slid out of the van.

Dean watched her climb into the Impala, and then he put the van in gear. He let Brandy pull out ahead of him, keeping plenty of distance between the vehicles. In front of the movie theater, Dean pulled to the curb and stopped. The group emptied out of the van, leaving him alone, and he watched them walk down the street and then break apart, each to their pre-determined positions. Satisfied that all seemed well, Dean merged out into the small-town midday traffic and circled the block once before parking on a meter near the mouth of the alley. Though he couldn’t see them from the van, the nearest member of his party, Cas, was only a stone’s throw away.

It was crazy, he thought, having the getaway vehicle driven by someone who couldn’t hear Sarah’s thoughts. But, the guard positions at each corner were most effectively manned by gifted people. If there was trouble, Lily could just pull off her glove and deal with it. Or, if trouble was on the other side of the building, Andy could use his mind control to affect the outcome. Keeping the mind reader and the lie detector nearby in case they needed to question a captured guard was also imperative. Sadly, he was one of the least needed on this mission. And to make matters worse, his baby brother was in the thick of the action… with no backup except his waifish girlfriend.

Dean worked to block the negative thoughts that plagued him, but it was useless. In his mind he heard his own voice over and over on a loop. “I can protect him, Bobby, you know I can.” The thought of putting Sam in harm’s way, like he’d just done, was abhorrent. Sadly, thinking of his Uncle Bobby right now wasn’t any healthier. He’d not heard a peep from his uncle, his aunt, his father or even Rufus in weeks. He tried to reassure himself that no news was good news. But the fact that neither he nor Sam had heard anything from _any_ of their father figures lately was starting to ache. Right then and there he promised himself that when they left this town, they’d put in a call to Ellen at the shop… just to check in. To get a taste of home and to check for updates as well as to pass on theirs. They’d do it now while they were a long way from the cabin.

 

 

 

Sarah walked along with Sam. It was hard to keep a normal pace and appear calm when inside she was flooded with nervous energy. Her hands were shaking; her throat was tight, chest constricted. They moved down the alley, and ahead of them they could see the Impala at the far end. Cas was in position, and halfway between Cas and the Impala, Lily was moving towards her position.

Since her position was right at the front door and was most noticeable from the active police station across the street, Lily’s post was probably the most dangerous. Andy’s position ran a close second. About the time Lily moved into her spot, Sarah was approaching the first window. So far, this was timing out very well. Sam was beside her, and they slowed their pace so he could reach up and check the window. It didn’t budge, and they moved on to the next. They checked one at a time, leaving Cas behind them and moving closer to Lily. Soon enough they passed by her and were walking along the front of the building towards Andy. So far, they’d seen nothing suspicious. But that didn’t mean anything. For all they knew, there could be eyes on them right now.

As the two of them turned another corner and began heading back north, they put Andy behind them and began moving toward Evan, Sam checking windows systematically as they went. They were closer to Evan than Andy when they found one that wasn’t latched. Sam pushed it up carefully, looking around as he did. It was broad daylight, but there was no one in the alley and very little traffic on the side street that ran between the two jails, old and new.

Sarah lifted her leg as Sam threaded his fingers together and formed his hands into a stirrup for her foot. She used his hands as step and heaved herself up with all her might. As she did, she felt the surge of her man’s strength pushing her up even higher. As she reached the peak, the window sill was at her waist, and she let her body fall forward. A huff of air punched out as she landed on her abdomen with her head inside the building. Her eyes darted around her surroundings as she hung there for a moment with her feet dangling on the outside of the building. Then, Sam gripped the bottom of each of her feet and gave her the little extra oomph she needed to wriggle her body weight forward and begin tipping inside. For a moment, as she slid in, all of her weight was on her knees, bending them the wrong way, and for a half second she thought she’d snap her legs. But as she grit her teeth against the pain, she fumbled the last few inches and slid to the floor in a pile.

Everything happened very quickly then. As she scanned her surroundings, the first thing she saw was Jesse. He was just standing there staring at her, and he looked just like she’d imagined him… small and fair skinned with brown hair and eyes. But even in that instant, she knew something wasn’t right. There was no fear in his eyes. His posture was relaxed. And he wasn’t speaking to her. As she took in the rest of her surroundings, she saw a man coming at her. Without even thinking, her body leapt into its fighting stance, moving faster than her brain. She was pivoting away from the man who was coming at her, her body having decided to take flight without any conscious thought. For some odd reason, her mind had time to silently thank Cas for her training as she easily evaded her attacker. Sadly, as her vision adjusted coming out of the spin, she realized that she was on a collision course with another attacker who was also coming at her. She was trapped between the two men. There was than a single second to react before she realized what was in the man’s hands. Then, all went dark as a hood was thrown over head.

She was wrestled to the floor efficiently by both men, and in her mind she heard her own voice screaming, “It’s a trap! It’s a trap!”

As she fought futilely against her captors, she managed to get control of her thoughts. She’d been captured. The most important thing now was to ensure that everyone else got away. The logic of that was simple. If she was taken, her friends would come for her. But if they were all taken? They’d all be imprisoned, and no one would even be looking for them. It was far preferable to let herself be taken and help her friends escape.

“Get them out!” she screamed silently to Sam, “Get everyone out! I’ll meet you at the rendezvous. Just get them out now, and I’ll meet you.”

It went against every self-preservation instinct she had – almost impossible not to call out for help. There were half a dozen friends nearby to assist. But her mind was surprisingly calm given the circumstances, and her logic was sound. As she stilled her movements and gave herself over to her captors, Sarah focused her mind on chanting to Sam, “Get everyone out and meet me at the rendezvous.” She repeated it again and again and again.

She knew Sam would never leave her if he knew she’d been captured. So she didn’t tell him. She repeated again and again that she’d meet up with him at their predetermined spot. It seemed to work too, because the room was very quiet. There was no sound of another scuffle… clearly no one had followed her in through the window. As she laid there on the hard floor, her heart was racing like a jackrabbit. Her limbs were twisted and jerked as she was trussed up by strong hands. Her ability to breathe was impeded by the hood over her head, and she was panting for breath.

As she worked to control her fear, she became aware of laughter ringing in her ears. It was the gleeful laughter of a spoiled child. It was Jesse. In her head. Laughing as she was bound.


	6. Acceptable Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to MoniJune. She's amazing ;)

Sam boosted Sarah upward and kept his hands in position until he felt her latch onto the window frame. Then he reached for her flailing feet. It took a few tries to get ahold of them, but when he had a solid grip he have her the push she needed to shove the rest of the way in. As her feet disappeared, Evan was already moving into position beside him, bending his knees and twining his fingers together to make a stirrup.

Sam put his foot into it and rested his left hand on Evan’s shoulder, bouncing on one leg a few times as he prepared to heave himself upward. A chuckle passed from his lips as he heard a faint whisper of Sarah’s voice in his head… she wasn’t really speaking to him, just thinking out loud and he happened to hear it. It was funny too. She was inwardly thanking Cas for his lessons. Sam’s mind provided a laughable image of her tumbling through the window but recovering neatly with a somersault to pop up on one knee. Somehow he knew how much she loved being able to do that now… as if she were on an episode of Charlie's Angels.

Just as he was preparing to thrust his body up to the window, her soft mental whispering was replaced with a panicked scream, sharp and loud. He was startled by the intensity of it. Fear gripped his heart with cold fingers as her words echoed in his head, “It’s a trap! It’s a trap! It’s a trap!”

There was no hesitation as he lunged towards the window to go in after her. But the support of his partner was gone from under his foot, and the thrust behind his leap was no longer amplified by someone boosting him. Instead he fumbled against Evan, who was now stumbling backwards and tugging him along. They almost went down and as he regained his footing, Sam heard Sarah’s voice again. She was urgently shouting commands at him… telling him to get everyone out of there. One look at Evan’s face and he realized he wasn’t the only one hearing her voice. Evan was pulling on him, pulling him away from the window, pulling him away from Sarah.

Even as he opened his mouth to protest, Evan was cupping a hand over his face and muzzling him. From behind him Sam could hear heavy footsteps approaching. Someone was running toward them. It was Andy. There were two now, both Andy and Evan, pulling on him and trying to drag him away from Sarah.

Even as he fought against them, he could hear his girl pleading with him in his head, “I’ll meet you,” she was promising. “Get everyone to the rendezvous, and I’ll meet you.” She said it over and over. Her voice no longer carried the panic and fear that it had a moment ago. She was focused on him – on them. She was practically begging him to get the others and meet her back at the hospital.

She didn’t use the word hospital, perhaps fearing that the enemy could hear her too. She was smart. She gave nothing away regarding their meeting point. She must have a way out, Sam thought. Perhaps she wasn’t even near the window anymore. Maybe she was running, moving toward an exit he couldn’t see.

Despite his overwhelming urge to leap through the window and rescue his girl, he knew he had to trust her. She had reason for doing whatever she was doing. It wasn’t easy, but he finally forced his arms to stop fighting. It tore at his insides to move away from the last place he’d seen Sarah, but he allowed himself to be dragged through the alley and around the corner.

Suddenly the roar of the Impala’s engine was all he could hear, and he was being shoved into the backseat. The tires squealed as Brandy peeled out and fishtailed into the street. The car lurched as she rounded the corner and went roaring past the van. Sam caught a glimpse of his brother’s startled expression as they shot past him, and he scrambled to get his knees under him so that he could see out the rear window. In the street behind them, the van was pulling out into the street. Like a bullet from a gun, Cas came shooting out of the alley on foot, running at top speed. Sam watched with his mouth gaping as Cas ran up alongside the van, opened the door and flung himself in. Then, clouds of thick black smoke were left behind as Dean put the pedal down. As the Impala left the scene, Sam watched the van getting smaller. It hooked a sharp right and disappeared around the corner.

Of course, Sam thought, Dean would take a different route to the hospital, just in case someone was giving chase. It was foolish to have both vehicles be seen tearing off in the same direction. Returning to a forward facing position, he worked to sort out all the knees and elbows that had piled into the backseat together.

“Fuck!” he cursed, driving his fist into the front seat. He was seething with anger and frustration. More than anything he needed to _think_ , figure out what to _do_. But logic was impossible because his mind wouldn’t stop repeating, “I’ve lost her.”

Brandy swung the Impala into the hospital parking lot, and immediately all of them spilled out of the vehicle. Lily was digging in the glove box, and Andy was shouting. Brandy and Evan were hugging each other, and Brandy was crying hysterically. Sam put his hands to his face, hiding it. It was shameful how weak he was in the moment. No good to his friends and no good to his girl. All he could do was wait for his brother. He needed Dean more than anything else in that moment. He needed someone to tell him what to do.

Sam felt his body quiver with the desire to take action. He needed something to swing at or chase after. Pacing back and forth with his head in hands wasn’t cutting it. Just when he thought he’d really lose his shit, he heard the sound of Andy’s van approaching. He looked up expectantly as the van pitched to a stop next to their incohesive group. Dean climbed out of the van and ran to them. Sam caught a glimpse of Cas exiting the van from the other side. He was straining to see if anyone else would emerge when Dean’s strong arms found him and pulled him into a hug.

Receiving comfort when Sarah was still missing didn’t feel right, but his body clenched into his brother’s embrace like a lifeline despite his mind revolting against the action. “Where is she?” he sobbed. “Tell me you have her.”

It was useless. He already knew Dean didn’t have her.

“What is that?” barked Dean as he began pulling away. Suddenly Sam heard it… the heavy thrumming sound of a helicopter.

“Run!” Cas was yelling. Then suddenly everyone was moving. They abandoned the vehicles and headed towards the hospital.

“Move, move, move!” Dean was shouting. They all pounded the short distance to the overhang where everyone stopped to look around frantically. Sam’s senses were coming back under his control now and he looked around, taking in his surroundings. This was a patient pick up and drop off area. It was sheltered from the elements by a large roof. Clearly hiding here was Dean and Cas’ way of being hidden from the helicopter should it pass over, without making the group vulnerable by climbing back into vehicles that may have already been identified.

Everyone was accounted for, except Sarah. His eyes scanned the neighboring structures, still hoping to see her come running towards them... still holding out hope for her. They were only four blocks from the jailhouse where he’d lost her. Just because she wasn’t in a vehicle didn’t mean she wasn’t coming. She had promised to meet him, after all. She could be running towards him right now. Perhaps that’s why the chopper… maybe they were using it to search for her. He turned back, staring in the general direction, eyes searching the civilian landscape and hoping to see her come running towards them.

But the chopper didn’t linger. It never even swooped over them. It had ascended and left the area. Already, the sound of it had grown faint enough to barely be audible. As he took in the shocked faces of his group, he realized his brother and Cas were talking and looking at him. They were shaking their heads.

“What?” he shouted as he walked over to them. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean said, reaching out to him again.

“Why? What am I missing?”

“The chopper, Sammy. It left too soon. It wasn’t looking for us.”

“What then?” he pressed. But even as he uttered the question, his mind was supplying the answer.

“It was just leaving,” said Dean softly, confirming what Sam had already begun to suspect. “Sarah was probably on it.”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Cas said to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“No,” he said firmly, unwilling to accept the truth. “No.”

“What do we do now?” Lily asked from behind him. “How do we get her back?”

 

 

 

“The place is clean,” Dean said, looking around at the abandoned jailhouse. Cas nodded in agreement. From the hospital, the group had come back here hoping to find clues as to where Sarah was being taken. The Impala and the van had likely been identified, so they’d left them in the hospital lot. Evan had stayed behind to watch and see if anyone attempted to intercept the vehicles. When the group had left on foot, Dean had watched the boy settle on his ass at the base of large tree with completely bare branches. He really didn’t like the idea of leaving the kid, but his gut instinct told him there was nothing to fear in this town anymore.

He did all he could to comfort his brother, but it was useless. Sam had been muttering the same phrase for over an hour now. As they crawled back out through the open window, sad puppy eyes locked on him and Sammy repeated it again. “She was right there, Dean.”

There was nothing he could say that would help, so there was no point in trying. He clapped his baby brother on the shoulder and nodded.

“I never should have stepped away from that window,” Sam said. “I should have gone after her. Drug her out. Killed those sons of bitches while I had the chance.”

“S’not what she wanted Sammy. You did the right thing.”

“What, abandon her?”

“You didn’t abandon her. You listened to her.”

“Dean is right,” Cas added as he stepped up beside them in the alley. “She had a reason for telling us to go. She knew something we didn’t. We have to trust her.”

Dean’s mind was running in circles as he tried to figure out the next move. For some reason, he kept thinking about the night they’d first rescued Sarah. He remembered the way Cas had seen the attack coming when Anna had appeared to shoot up the van. Cas had said, “That was pick-up and delivery. I’m familiar with that exercise.” As that memory replayed itself for Dean, he pulled Cas aside and asked him a question.

“Anything familiar to you about all of this?”

“No.”

“Why her?” he asked rhetorically, scratching his head.

“Because,” answered Cas, “because they already knew what she could do.”

Dean recognized the look on his friend’s face. His mind was churning; the man was onto something.

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it, Dean, every single one of us is a target. We’ve all been pursued to some degree. But, out of this group, Sarah is unique.”

“How so?”

“She met Alistair.”

“That’s right,” Dean marveled. “I completely forgot about that… he was going to buy her.”

“She told us,” added Cas, “that he put his hand on her head for a long time.”

“Okay…”

“He was reading her. He knows everything about her now… what her gift is and how she can use it.”

“They lured her here,” Dean said, finally on the same page and beginning to understand, “used a kid to do it.”

“Yes,” confirmed Cas. “They know the logistics of how her gift works, and they also knew she was kind-hearted enough that the lure would work.”

“What do they want with her?” Sam asked.

Dean was surprised by his brother’s voice. He’d not noticed that Sam had been lingering nearby and listening.

“We can’t know that, Sammy,” Dean told his brother, “But we know she’s valuable and that they’ve put a lot of effort into taking her. We have to believe they’ll protect that investment. Treat her well.”

As Dean’s eyes connected with Cas’ over Sam’s shoulder, he watched his friend shake his head no. Clearly Cas didn’t like Dean reassuring Sam about Sarah’s humane treatment. Probably because Cas knew what kind of things were done to the gifted… things that had been done to Cas.

“Let’s get back to the hospital,” Dean said, changing the subject. “I’d like to see if we still have cars.”

The group walked the four blocks back over to the hospital and as they did, Cas and Dean hung back from the rest.

“How bad is it Cas?” Dean asked him quietly.

“She’ll be alright,” Cas hedged, “if we get her back soon enough.”

“And if not?” Dean pressed.

“Well, you've met Ana.”

 

 

 

Cas watched Dean try, again and again, to comfort his brother. But it was pointless, and they all knew it. The entire group was despondent. The positive energy of training and bonding and a couple of successful missions was gone now, and it was easy to see each of them was feeling small and weak and vulnerable.

The cars had been untouched when they returned to the hospital parking lot. There was a small chance that the vehicles hadn’t been seen, but it was unlikely. More likely was the realistic belief that the vehicles and remaining group members were inconsequential. Whoever had orchestrated the capture of Sarah Blake had come to this quaint town with one target. They had acquired that target and left. Either the rest of the group were no longer considered desirable targets or, more likely, the acquisition of the remaining targets wasn’t perceived as a challenge.

Cas hated to admit it, but he had the sneaking suspicion that the rest of his group would be slowly picked off. One by one. At some point, they’d come for him too… just as they had many times before. Once again, his precious memories would be wiped. He’d be re-educated. He’d be put back into the environment. He’d be trained and punished and trained and punished and the whole thing just made him so very tired. The idea of being owned and possessed, used and controlled, was unpleasant. But above all else, what Cas really feared was the loss of Dean. The idea of being taken from his bright was horrible. But knowing that he’d lose his accumulated memories of their time together was even worse. It was the worst possible hell he could imagine.

“You know what’s really bugging me?” barked Sam, breaking Cas from his thoughts, “Why isn’t she talking? Why can’t I hear her?”

From the backseat, Cas watched as Dean took his right hand off the steering wheel and placed it on Sam’s shoulder. No words were spoken as Dean tried to reassure his little brother.

“Dean, if she was alive, she’d be talking to me.”

Sam’s voice trembled as he spoke and his anguish was palpable.

“Sammy…” Dean began tentatively. But Cas couldn’t sit quietly and listen any longer. He had to intrude in the conversation. He knew how Sam must be feeling… the same way he’d feel if Dean was taken from him. Because he understood Sam’s feelings so well, he knew there was nothing he could say to ease his pain. But he did know of something he could say to reassure and give hope. So he sat forward, leaning on the seat and laying his hand on Sam’s shoulder as Dean had.

“Sam, she’s most likely asleep right now. They probably sedated her before even putting her on the chopper. She’s a fighter Sam – always was. But now she’s a skilled one. She wasn’t easy to take down, and they’d want to keep her contained while in transit. Especially in the air. She’s not gone, I’m sure of it. She’s just… sleeping.”

Sam nodded understanding, and Cas slid back into the backseat. The younger Winchester seemed resigned and Dean once again put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. It was a gesture of solidarity, Cas could see that now and was glad to have mimicked the movement because it conveyed so much of what he was feeling.

As they roared down the dark highway, Cas felt empty and lost. Sam’s grief was his future. He knew that with certainty. The enemy coming for him was so inescapable that there was no point in fighting it anymore. He’d had hope for a time, and it had been empowering. But that was gone now. The end was inevitable. He was going to be taken, or die trying to avoid being taken. Along the way, he’d lose all these people he cared for. Bit by bit, the life he’d begun to love was going to be stripped from him. He was almost sorry he’d ever found any happiness at all. It just made his inevitable capture even more painful to contemplate. He wouldn’t just lose his freedom when he was taken, he’d lose everything. He’d lose his bright. The thought was gut wrenching, physically painful, almost more than he could bear. _I’ve been a fool,_ he thought. _I’ve been a fool to think I could escape my fate._

“We need gas,” Dean mumbled, pulling into a small truck stop. The headlights of Andy’s van filled their rearview mirror as both vehicles rolled up to the pumps. The place had an attached diner, but at this late hour there were hardly any people around. Their vehicles were the only ones near the pumps. A few were parked around the edges of the lot, empty, likely belonging to those who worked here.

The group was somber, and everyone avoided Dean as they spilled out of the van to stretch their legs. Avoiding Dean was understandable since their leader had a tendency to lose his temper when things weren’t going well. Everyone was feeling sorrowful over the loss of Sarah, and clearly no one wanted to be yelled at in their present state. The exception was Sam. He stared at Dean under the harsh lights of the filling station. A bitterly cold wind was whipping across the parking lot and while everyone else huddled down in their jackets, Sam stood with his hanging open. His eyes were angry and for the first time in a long time, Cas noticed his darkness. It churned and swirled in Sam’s chest. For a moment, he almost thought he saw a flicker of evil in Sam’s eyes. They were cold. Defiant. There was a pressure building in the young man as he stood facing his brother and his body was rigid.

“Dean,” he said in a cold and cutting tone.

Dean turned to face his brother but didn’t speak.

“Dean,” Sam repeated.

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck are we doing? Where are we even going? They’ve got Sarah. What the fuck are we going to do, Dean?”

Cas tried to swallow the lump that rose in his throat as he watched, but it wouldn’t go down. Dean had no answer for his brother, it was obvious. Perhaps the group couldn’t see it through Dean’s carefully manufactured façade of confidence and bravado, but Cas could see it clear as day. Dean was lost. Dean had no idea where to go or what to do, and it made him anxious and angry. It went against every fiber of Dean’s being to be honest with his brother and admit any of that. Cas knew this because he knew Dean to his core.

He knew his friend considered himself to be the leader of this group and the fierce guardian of his brother. The self-imposed role was well suited to him on most days. Even Cas, who knew all the weaknesses Dean had, never acknowledged them consciously. He followed Dean’s leadership without fail… even when Dean was wrong or foolish. He’d follow him anywhere – even to his grave. But now, watching the tense standoff between these two brothers, Cas wondered what Dean would do when being challenged like this. He wasn’t the only one either, the rest of their group stood around holding their breath and waiting to see what Dean would say.

“C’mon Dean,” Sam growled as he reached over the hose that stretched between the gas pump and the vehicle. “Tell me! What. The fuck. Are we going to do?” 

The group inhaled sharply as Sam grabbed Dean forcefully by the lapels of his jacket and jerked him close. Dean’s face was unreadable as he stood chin-to-chin with his brother. The anger and frustration rolled off of them both in waves. Cas felt helpless, not really knowing what to do, so he waited with the rest of the group for the tension to break – for Dean to answer or for Sam to take a swing.

“What are we going to do, Dean?” Sam repeated. It wasn’t said like a question this time. It was said like a statement. Like a challenge.

Cas watched Dean carefully and saw his body’s frame relax a minute amount. He interpreted this as submission. Dean had submitted to Sam and heard his brother’s words as a call to action rather than a challenge.

“We’re gonna call Bobby,” he finally answered.

“What?” asked Sam, stepping back stunned and releasing his brother.

“You heard me. We’re gonna call Bobby.”

Cas watched Sam nod agreement and begin to calm down.

“Cas,” said Dean, looking over at him, “take everyone inside and get some food. I have a call to make.”

Without a thought, he nodded agreement to his bright. He wanted to hug Dean, give him some sort of physical reassurance. But in Dean’s present state, he knew his friend wouldn’t want it. Not in front of the group anyway. He wouldn’t want anyone seeing him need or accept emotional support of any kind… it would only make him feel weak. So instead of doing what he felt like doing, what Dean actually needed, Cas did what he knew Dean would want him to do. He affirmed Dean’s role as their leader by accepting the order. He obeyed Dean.

The rest of the group followed behind him as he walked across the dark lot and into the empty diner. There was only one waitress on duty, and she pushed together two small tables to make room for them all to sit together. Everyone’s mood remained somber as they looked over the menus and placed an order. Cas ordered for Dean and then watched through the wide window as his friend paced back and forth near the pumps, talking animatedly on one of their disposable cell phones.

His own thoughts were dark, so he kept them to himself. It was obvious that the rest of the group were wondering if they’d ever see Sarah again. But Cas knew the truth. If they lived long enough, they would all see her again. Because soon, they’d be with her. Each of these wonderful people with their own unique identity and gift and zest for life would soon be as empty as he’d been. They’d have tattoos on their wrists that would brand them with the only name they’d ever remember.

Yes, they’d all see each other again. They just wouldn’t remember one another when they did. Perhaps one day, they’d do exercises together in the environment as he and Zar and Ana had done. Perhaps one day, one of them would kill the other, much like he and Zar and Ana had.

As Cas watched his food be set down in front of him, his throat closed off. He couldn’t imagine eating. All he could do was sit and wonder if at some other time, in some other place, he’d sat like this with Ana or Zar and tried to figure out what to do when one of them was captured. All Cas could do, as everyone else began to eat, was ponder the many lives he’d likely lived and wonder how many times he’d been hunted down… and how many friends he’d really lost along the way.

 

 

 

Dean took a deep breath and tried to focus. To keep from screaming aloud in frustration, he worked to organize his thoughts. Prioritize. Think strategically. He’d made a call. That meant he needed to get rid of the phone. He’d not even looked at a map lately and had no idea if there was a natural body of water nearby. So instead, he headed around the side of the building where the restrooms were located. When he walked in, the smell was overwhelming. It turned his stomach, which was already unsettled. Before he could even fight the urge to vomit, hot, acidic liquid rolled up the back of this throat and spilled into his mouth. He spun towards the overflowing trash bin and opened, letting the thick, chunky liquid flow out of him. He gagged and sputtered as his abdomen clenched and heaved to eject everything.

When he’d finished, the smell of his vomit added to the revolting scent in the tiny bathroom. To minimize his nausea, Dean breathed through his mouth as he washed up in the sink and took a piss. Then he looked around. Beneath the sink was a bucket and a toilet scrubber that had seen better days. Knowing it would be awhile before anyone came to clean this bathroom, Dean took the bucket out and filled it with water. Then he broke his burner phone open on the sink and dropped all the pieces into the bucket of water and slid it back under the sink.

When he stepped out into the cold night, he was finally able to breathe through his nose again. Physically he felt much better. But mentally he was still compromised. There were too many swirling emotions to even choose the most prominent. But if he had to venture a guess, he’d say frustration. It was only compounded by his conversation with Ellen.

He had no ability to contact Bobby directly, only to call the shop and trust that Ellen would answer. Which she had. Even in the middle of the night. Dean wondered if she was sleeping there. What was her life like now, with her family in peril and scattered to the wind? Dean could only imagine what it must be like to be left alone, singularly tasked with holding the ends of the rope together on real life while her family became invisible to her and left her as the single information outpost.

Thinking of the strength required for Ellen to do her part in all this served to strengthen his resolve. Dean made an effort as he walked back around to the front of the diner to gather his own inner strength and channel Ellen. To be like her. To find infinite strength inside only to give it away to those around him, because they’d need it.

When he walked into the diner, he smelled coffee. Bacon. His empty stomach rumbled as he walked over to the table where his group was sitting. They were eating quietly. Everyone but Cas. He looked pitiful just staring at his food. Dean paused a moment, waiting for Cas to look up so he could see those eyes. But Cas didn’t acknowledge him, or anyone else. He just sat staring down, and he looked so hopeless that Dean didn’t know what to do.

“What did he say?” Sam asked softly, clearly wanting an update on the phone call.

“I called Ellen. She’s gonna have Bobby call us tomorrow at 3.”

“Tomorrow?” parroted Sam.

Dean cringed at the sound when Sam dropped his fork and it clattered onto his plate. He could feel the shift in the air as everyone turned their faces to him, watching. All he could do was nod.

“Fucking tomorrow, Dean? Think what they could do to her by then…” his voice broke on the last word and so did Dean’s heart as he watched his brother fall apart and start to cry.

“Dean,” he pleaded, “Dean, we have to do something now. She needs us now. Not tomorrow, not next week. Now. Right fucking now. We have to get her back!”

Dean clenched his chin and summoned all of his will not to shed tears or show weakness. His breaking down would help no one – not even him. But here he sat, with everyone looking to him for an answer he didn’t have… and the two most important people to him in the world… Sam and Cas… both looking more broken than he’d ever seen them. Again he was besieged with more emotions than he was capable of processing. But above all others – frustration.

Dean felt a surge of relief when Lily and Brandy pushed back from their chairs and moved towards Sam. He watched gratefully as they wrapped their arms around him and pulled him from the table. Both were also in tears as they gave Sammy what he needed… what Dean hadn’t been able to give him… comfort.

Looking around at the remainder of the group, Dean saw the men each battling their own emotions. Cas hadn’t moved, his face still turned down. Andy’s eyes were wet and he looked apprehensive. Evan, though, Evan looked angry. When movement caught Dean’s eye, it was the waitress. She’d clearly seen that something emotional was happening in their group and had been avoiding them while they yelled and cried. But now, she’d come to the table.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked, leaning in to fill the few empty coffee cups.

“No,” Dean answered, seeing that someone had ordered for him and there was a plate of food in front of him. He watched her as she finished dispensing coffee. She seemed to want to help but was uncertain of how to offer assistance.

“You sure there’s nothing else you guys need?” she pressed.

“No. Thanks. We’ll be okay.”

She seemed to accept his answer and moved on. From beside him, Andy spoke.

“Will we, Dean?” he asked, “Will we be okay?”

There was nothing to be said. He looked between the men of his group and then down at his food. Slowly, he began to eat.

 

 

 

When they left the diner, Sam was feeling tired. They’d not slept much the last few days, and today had taken its emotional toll. His crying fit in the diner had leeched the last of the energy from him, and he now felt like a wrung-out dishrag. He knew Dean was right when he’d insisted that they needed to rest. No one could make good decisions or solid plans when they were this tired and emotional. Though it felt wrong to sleep when Sarah was in peril, he couldn’t argue the logic. So he’d agreed with Dean when he suggested they bed down for the night.

They couldn’t stay in this town though, Dean had made a call. So they’d all climbed back into the vehicles and hit the road, trying to put some distance between them and the location of the diner where they’d used and discarded a phone. Sam stayed with the girls, needing their supportive presence and possibly because they were somehow a thin connection to Sarah.  Aside from him, they were the ones she’d spent the most time with. He climbed into the back of the van with them but as he did, he couldn’t help but notice Cas.

Cas, who always seemed to shadow his brother, had kept his eyes on the ground and walked slowly without speaking to anyone as he’d climbed into the driver’s seat of the van. Andy was the only one who followed Dean to the Impala. It didn’t sit well with Sam that there was something amiss between his brother and Cas. But he didn’t have the energy to think on it. He curled up on the mattress with Brandy and Lily. He tried not to think of Sarah where she was now, but rather to think of her as she’d been at the cabin. Her beautiful face, smiling at him, was the last thing he saw as he dozed off and the echo of her voice haunted his dreams.

 

 

 

Dean took a deep breath as he slid into his Baby. Andy climbed in with him and as his passenger settled in, Dean drove out of the gas station. It felt good to be back in motion, even if he still had no clue what to do next.

“I think you could use this,” Andy said from beside him.

Dean looked over and had to laugh. The guy was handing him a joint.

“I think you’re right,” he said as he took it. He settled it between his lips and then accepted a lighter, flicking it and holding it to the tip of the joint. The flame caught and burned brightly for a second, eating up the excess paper and then turning to smolder as the weed inside caught and began to burn.

He handed Andy his lighter back and cracked his window. The intrusion of fresh air was welcome, even though it was bitterly cold. Carefully he brought the joint over near the cracked window and allowed the breeze to clear the burnt paper and ash from the cherry tip. Then he brought it back to his lips and inhaled deeply. He held his breath and passed it to Andy, stifling a cough when he finally exhaled. Andy handed it back to him and then bent to turn on the radio while Dean took another hit.

They drove quietly, passing the joint between them and listening to music. Andy was right, this was just what he needed. The herb wasn’t magical. It wasn’t even high-quality weed. But it did dull the ragged ends of him a bit. It eased his frustration and relaxed his body. It slowed his spinning mind and allowed him relief from the relentless emotions that had been battering him since they’d lost Sarah. He felt damn decent as they drove through several small towns. He was glad that Andy didn’t try to talk to him, just sat there and shared the space quietly. It was nice. Despite his comfort though, his body and mind missed Cas’ presence by his side.

When drowsiness started to set in, Dean began looking for a place to stop for the night. The next town offered a shitty roadside dive, and he swung into its lot without thinking twice. He went through the motions of booking rooms, parking their vehicles, dividing up everyone’s bags and passing out the room keys. Cas stood by him quietly and followed him to their room. He remained quiet as they settled in and didn’t join Dean in the shower.

Missing his earlier contentment and wishing he had another joint, Dean crawled into the shitty hotel bed and tried to relax enough for sleep to take him. He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until the sound of Cas emerging from the shower woke him up. He rolled over and watched Cas dry off, but to his surprise, Cas crawled into the other bed.

The action was like a punch in the gut to Dean. He sat straight up in the bed and threw off his covers.

“What?” he demanded. “Did I piss you off or something?”

Cas was slow to answer, and thoughts of the many things he’d done today to deserve anger all piled on him at once.

“No, Dean,” Cas finally answered, “I am not angry with you.”

“What then?” he asked as he scuttled out of his bed and slid over to Cas’. His friend was facing away from him, and he longed to reach out and force the man to roll over and look at him. Instead he chewed his lip as he waited for an answer. But none came.

“Cas,” he said, hating how pathetic his voice sounded, “I need you.”

Hearing Dean’s words seemed to change Cas’ posture. His tight frame relaxed into the bed and he rolled over, finally. An immeasurable sadness had settled into the deep blue eyes he’d always loved, and for a moment Dean almost wished his friend would roll back over. It was too difficult to look at him and see the weight of what he was feeling but not be able to do anything about it. Seeking to kiss away the pain, Dean leaned in and pressed his lips Cas’ forehead. He wrapped his arm around his man and rubbed his back, their bare chests pressing together. For one sweet second, he felt Cas embrace him, and then it was over.

Cas turned away from him and said, “Please return to your own bed Dean.”

“But… why?” he stammered, “I – I don’t understand.”

Cas’ ferocious answer took him by surprise. The words were bad enough, but the biting tone behind them was like a punch to the gut.

“I don’t want you,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to make love with you.”

“Cas…” he whispered, unable to wrap his head around what was happening between them.

“I’ve had enough, Dean. It’s enough now. Please return to your own bed.”

Stinging with the rejection, Dean moved back to his own bed. He curled in on himself under the covers and clenched his eyes against the tears that formed there. All day they’d been wanting to fall and he’d held them off, borrowing strength from others to keep his eyes dry. But now, alone in the dark, it was impossible. They rolled down his cheek one after another against his will. He still worked to hold back though, not wanting Cas to hear him sob or sniffle. He laid there in pain, tears leaking silently and feeling more alone than he ever had.

 

 

 

Sleep was fitful at best. But Sam didn’t mind it. It was actually quite nice, the dozing off and on. Each time his mind moved from waking to sleep or back again, he had a few blissful moments of in between. For those precious moments, he was at peace because the sound of Sarah’s voice would float over him. He could hear the echoes of her caressing him like soft hands before he’d inevitably succumb to the nothingness of sleep.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The room was unfamiliar, but the body next to him was not. Her dark hair was fanned out over a white pillow, and her face was angelic in sleep. Sarah. He tried to say her name or reach for her, but he couldn’t easily do so. It was a clue. He looked around seeking a clock. But there were none that he could see. Seeking to validate his perceived level of consciousness and unable to find a clock, Sam looked down at his feet. Nothing. Just black. He jerked his head back up, not wanting to fall into the blackness at his feet. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. It looked like a hospital room. There was unnameable equipment around him, some of it beeping and flashing tiny lights. There was a bag hanging from a tall hook near the head of Sarah’s bed and following the tubing attached to it with his eyes led him to the IV port in her arm. He tore his eyes from her still body in an effort to search for writing of any kind… something tangible to reveal this location… but there was nothing. Nothing to anchor this place to reality in any way. Returning his attention to his sleeping girl, he now noticed something he hadn’t before. Her hands and feet were anchored to her bed. White straps. She was tied down.

“Sarah,” he said as he leaned in towards her face. She evaporated like smoke as he drew closer and the bright white of her surroundings faded into the dingy cream-colored wallpaper of his cheap hotel room. He was in bed. Looking over to the bed next to his, he saw Lily and Brandy. It was obvious they’d been sleeping but were now sitting up, looking at him.

“You okay?” Lily asked him.

“She’s alive,” he said, feeling a rush of relief as he said it out loud, “I dreamed of her. She’s alive.”

 

 

 

Dean woke with a jolt. He’d been startled by something in his dream, but even a second after waking, he couldn’t recall what it was. He rolled, waiting for his heart to slow from its gallop. That’s when his eyes fell on Cas. His friend was only a few feet away in the other bed. But to Dean it felt like he was a thousand miles away. Since he’d known Cas, he’d never felt distance like this. The sadness he’d escaped with sleep found him again, and he wished for relief. Unfortunately, he was wide awake. With an interest in numbing his pain, Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled his pants from the floor. He stepped into them quietly and tiptoed out the door, closing it silently behind him.

Leaving the room was like a measure of relief in itself. The agony of seeing Cas not want him eased by the door closing between them. Further relief was found as the bitter winter wind assailed his bare chest and feet, turning his attention from his inner feelings to the more physical ones. He rubbed his hands together as he hurried down two doors and tapped lightly on Andy’s.

There was no immediate response so he knocked harder, shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously. When the door swung open, he flung himself into the warmth of the dimly lit room.

“Thanks man,” he said as Andy shut the door. “Coulda froze my nuts off out there.”

“Dude, it’s like 2 a.m. I just got to sleep.”

“Yeah,” chuckled Dean, “about that.”

 

 

 

Cas had to work to keep still. It went against every instinct he had to allow Dean to linger in a nightmare and not intercede. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. He listened to the bedsprings protest from behind him as Dean turned and moved about on the mattress. He didn’t want it known that he was awake, so he worked to keep his breathing even and stayed facing the wall. From the other bed, he could hear Dean’s breathing slow and was hoping he’d go back to sleep. But he didn’t. Cas could hear the rustle of his clothes as they were pulled from the floor and then the click of the lock as the door was opened. He held his breath as Dean left the room and didn’t exhale until he’d heard the door shut again.

Letting his breath out in a whoosh, he finally allowed himself to turn over and face the other way. He’d been forcing himself to stay facing away for hours, not wanting to take the chance of accidently locking eyes with Dean. His heart ached with loneliness and the feeling of utter wrongness that came from voluntarily distancing himself. But this was necessary.

He’d been foolish – so very foolish to try and build a life with Dean. Cas didn’t fault himself for going home from the cemetery with Dean that first night. He didn’t accept any responsibility for the way he’d latched onto his bright and accepted the food, clothing and other help his new friend had given him. All that was fine. Even crawling into Dean’s bed to help him survive his nightmares was justifiable. So was touching when allowed. Kissing. Wanting. All were forgivable. He’d had no idea how big a mistake he’d been making at the time because he’d had no memory. Because of his naivete – his actions were both understandable and forgivable.

But once he’d had his memory back? From that moment on, his mistakes had been many, and they weighed on him now. He’d defied the order to kill his bright. He’d rebelled against the authority over him and run like a child. He’d hidden himself from those to whom he belonged. He’d been arrogant to think that he and Dean were strong or that they stood a chance of living free. They’d never had a chance.

And worse yet, he’d fallen. He’d fallen into the all-consuming agony of love. The security and good feelings that it brought him had lulled him into fantasies. Those fantasies were dangerous. And from what he’d since learned of love, it hardly seemed worth it. He never had enough anyway. No matter how much love he gave or took, it never satisfied him. He always wanted more. More. More. More.

Each time he came with Dean’s name on his lips, he’d been filling himself with love. It was like there was a storage room in his heart where he hoarded away all the love, and each time he and Dean came together, they’d gasp and cry out and the love in storage would swell ever larger. But what kind of commodity is love? It isn’t like paper money that can be traded for goods or services. It isn’t like food or drink that can sustain a body. Love is useless. But for all that it cannot do, love has to be guarded like something precious; because the loss of it is unimaginable.

Now that Cas had come to grips with the fact that he was on borrowed time, it simply made no sense to continue growing his love. The more love he had for Dean and his friends, the more it would hurt him when they were taken from him. He’d been a fool to carry so much love in the first place. It was nothing but a weapon for his enemy to take from him, even use against him.

Spontaneously, a memory fluttered back to him and he remembered standing in the clearing and lecturing his group about the dangers of an amateur holding a weapon. “It’s nothing but a gift to your attacker,” he’d told them. It had been so clear to him then, the ease with which an enemy could steal up on an unsuspecting person and take away their weapon, use it against them. How had he not made the connection back then? How had he not seen that it was the same with love?

 

 

 

The girls were full of questions for Sam. Sadly, he could answer none. All he could do was scribble in his journal and describe what he’d seen, over and over. They had moved to his bed, and the three of them had brainstormed for hours on the possibilities. But in the end, he knew that in order to get more information, he had to go back to sleep.

“Okay,” both girls agreed in unison, “you go back to sleep.”

Lily turned off the lamp and the ladies returned to the bed they’d been sharing. It was quiet for a bit, and he tried. But the excitement of having seen her… of knowing she was alive… it was too much.

“It’s useless,” he grumbled, reaching for the lamp again. “There’s no way I can sleep right now.”

 

 

 

“So, this is how fucked up things have to be for you to finally pull out the elephant dick?”

Andy laughed and handed it to him. It was heavy. The water sloshed in the base. Dean rearranged his limbs so that his ass was on the bed and his feet were on the floor. Between his legs, he held the bong. He sealed his mouth around the top and flicked the lighter, bringing the flame to the bowl and inhaling deeply as he pulled the stem out. The gurgling of his suction pulling smoke up through the water was almost comical to him, and he fought laughter as he filled his lungs.

“Take it deep,” Andy joked, probably trying to slip in a duplicitous homo reference. The thought made laughter impossible to ignore, and it burst from him with a cloud of smoke. Andy leaned in and took the bong from him while Dean continued battling his laughter and coughing fit. The two of them continued with lighthearted banter as they passed the bong back and forth, killing two more bowls of shitty weed.

“You’re a good guy to have around,” Dean commented when he kicked his feet up to sprawl out on the bed. “In the absence of a minibar anyway.”

“Well, Jim Beam’s good company on a bad night,” Andy replied, “but he’s got a nasty habit of turning a bad night into a worse morning.”

“Hey,” chuckled Dean, “I love a good hangover. It goes great with anger and disappointment.”

Their easy laughter was interrupted by knocking.

“Who is it?” Andy hollered, probably not wanting to get up.

“It’s Lily.”

“Well shit,” said Andy, leaping up from the bed. He slapped Dean on the side of his leg as he walked by and said, “That’s your cue to get the fuck out of my room, Winchester.”

Dean sat up, head foggy, and watched Andy open the door.

“Now it’s a party,” he joked to her as she walked in.

“Well, not to be a cold bitch, but can I get this party to go?” she asked.

Dean didn’t miss the way her eyes flicked from Andy to him and back again.

“Sam needs to sleep and he can’t,” she told Andy. “Roll us a joint?”

“Sure, have a seat,” he told her, shutting the door.

Dean watched as Lily sat down on the bed that Andy had been occupying.

“Do I need to go?” he asked them.

“No, stay,” Lily said. “I have to get back.”

“How is he?” Dean asked, wondering if he should go next door and spend some time with his brother.

“He’ll be better when I get over there with this,” she said dismissively. Immediately Dean began to suspect that there was something she wasn’t telling him, and he called her on it.

“What’s going on?”

“We can talk about it in the morning,” she told him firmly, “Right now, what he needs is to sleep. If you go barreling over there, that’s not going to happen.”

Dean nodded his understanding and watched Andy’s expert fingers roll a perfect joint. Then, when he handed it to Lily, he pulled it back from her hand teasingly, causing her to reach farther so that he could lean in and plant a kiss on her cheek. Despite the playful manner in which it was done, there was something deeply personal about the action, and the sentiment had Dean turning his head away, honoring their privacy. He didn’t see it, but their silence indicated that they must’ve followed one kiss with another. Dean didn’t look back until he heard Lily’s boots hit the floor. She strutted past him, not even saying goodbye when she left.

“Damn she’s hot,” Dean whispered when she was gone.

“You have no idea,” said Andy, turning to pick up the bong again. “She’s the boss, man. I’d eat the corn outta her shit.”

Dean crinkled his nose and burst out laughing at the crude analogy. It was a disturbing mental picture, but accurate. It was the most imaginative way that Dean had ever heard anyone express devotion. And that’s what Andy was really doing. He was telling Dean in the funniest and most disgusting way imaginable that he was Lily’s bitch. Heart and soul.

“I still can’t believe you managed to tap that,” Dean laughed as Andy stuffed another bowl into the bong.

“It helps,” Andy replied as he prepared to take a hit, “that I know how to say ‘thank you, miss, may I have another’.”

“Fuck me,” Dean replied, trying to shake the image from his head. “I don’t need the mental picture of you being spanked.”

“It’s way beyond birthday swats,” Andy teased as Dean prepared to inhale.

“Stop it dude, I came here to relax and sleep, not find new fuel for my nightmares,” Dean joked, lighting the bowl. He breathed deep and as he exhaled he felt his body further relax. Andy was watching him speculatively, evidence of the previous moment’s laughter still lurking on his face where the corner of his mouth was twitching like he wanted to smile.

Allowing the good feelings, Dean laid back and pulled the pillow under his head. His high was providing him with false contentment, and Andy’s dirty humor had made him buoyant with easy laughter. He closed his eyes, hoping it would be enough to shuttle him into the blissful oblivion of sleep. The next thing he knew, there was knocking again.

As he sat up and looked around, the gritty feeling in his eyes clued Dean in to the fact that he’d been sleeping deeply. As he blinked awake and slid off the bed he’d crashed on, Andy was moving past him to open the door. Leaning over the sink, Dean splashed warm water on his face to wake up. When he turned to face the room, Lily was back. She had Sam with her, Brandy and Evan too. He watched them all finding places to settle on the beds.

There was a stiff kind of formality in the air… like a speech was about to be made. Dean watched the newly arrived group look amongst themselves, clearly deciding who would speak first. Leaning back against the sink, Dean looked at the group that now included Andy and said, “What?”

“Dean,” Sam said tentatively, “we have a plan.”

Dean could see that his brother, Brandy, Evan, and Lily had come as a united front to present their idea. He listened intently as they went over it, but it was hard to keep his mouth shut and allow them to finish. They all chimed in at one point or another, trying to sell Dean on the virtues of their plan. But it didn’t matter how many valid points they made as they argued. From the moment it had been suggested that a member of their group allow themselves to be taken, Dean had stopped listening.

“No. No, no, no,” Dean said roughly as he paced the length of the room. “No. Fucking. Way.”

“I knew you’d say that, Dean, but you’re not…” Sam stopped mid-sentence and looked around. “Wait,” he said with a puzzled look on his face, “Where the fuck is Cas?”

“Sleeping would be my guess,” Dean spat tersely, “It’s the middle of the goddam night.”

“Somebody go get him,” Sam barked, looking back at those who’d entered with him.

“I’ll go,” Lily said quietly, moving towards the door.

“Sorry,” said Sam, turning back to him, “I just assumed he’d be with you.”

“Whatever,” he said, working hard to feign nonchalance.

Awkward silence descended and to fill it, Dean made another appeal to his brother.

“Okay,” said Dean, softening his stance a little, “I get it. You saw her in a dream but you didn’t get much information, and now you’re all worked up about it. But, Sammy, you never get much the first time. You’ll dream of her again and get more, okay? That’s how it seems to work.”

“No, Dean, I’m sorry but no,” his brother pushed back. “We don’t have the time to wait like that. We have to act now.”

“Sammy, it’s good that she’s sedated. She’s not scared or hurt right now. She’s just sleeping. We don’t need to go off halfcocked on some crazy plan that gives our enemy exactly what they want.”

 “She was tied down, Dean. That means they’re expecting her to wake up. And what’s going to happen when she does?”

Dean’s mind flicked to Cas. He’d said they would sedate Sarah for the helicopter ride. He’d predicted Ana’s behavior a few times too. Cas’ memories, though incomplete and difficult to decipher, held clues that might be able to help them. Dean stiffened as he realized how important it was to speak with Cas, ask him probing questions and sift through his tidbits for anything they could use. His eyes flicked to Sam.

“What?” Sam asked, clearly noticing Dean’s change in posture.

“Cas,” Dean answered.

“What, Dean? Do you think he remembers something? From being there? Does he know anything that can help us?”

“Maybe,” he answered, and then quickly added, “I don’t know. The things he knows don’t help us find the place. They didn’t even go outside while they were there. When they left on missions and stuff, they took them out and brought them back in windowless vans. He thinks he’s told us everything that might be helpful, but…”

“How far?” asked Sam.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how far. When he was taken out in the van, was it a long trip or a short one?”

“Good question,” Dean said, slightly embarrassed that he’d never thought to ask it.

Just then, Lily came back through the door with Cas in tow. Sam looked to Dean expectantly. Clearly he assumed that Dean would immediately begin pumping Cas with questions. But one look at Cas, and Dean knew he was in trouble. The man wouldn’t even look at him.

“I gotta piss,” he said, turning towards the bathroom. “Sammy, ask your questions,” he barked over his shoulder as he walked away. Then he barreled into the tiny bathroom and locked himself inside. With nothing to do now but wait, he flopped down on the edge of the tub with head in hands. He hated himself for hiding, but he knew the group could get the information from Cas a lot easier than he could right now.

He wrung his hands for a few minutes, contemplating what a coward he’d really turned out to be. Then, when he felt sufficient time had passed, he stood and pushed down the handle to flush the toilet. He let himself out of the bathroom expecting to return to the group and came face to face with Brandy instead. He went to step around her but she stood in his path and smiled disarmingly at him.

“Number one or number two?”

“What?”

“I asked you a question, Dean. Number one or number two?”

“What’s it to you if I took a piss or a shit?” he challenged.

“Liar. You didn’t do either,” she whispered, “Now, what’s going on?”

“None of your business,” he whispered gruffly.

“The fuck it isn’t. We’re talking about sending my best friend to his possible death, and you’re hiding something. Now, what is it?”

“It’s nothin. Just something personal between me and Cas.”

“Ok,” she agreed, seeing that he was telling the truth. She retreated back to her seat, and Dean turned his attention to the group.

“Okay,” Sam said to the room, “Now that everyone’s here, let’s go over this again.”

“You need to hear me say no again?” Dean challenged.

Sam shook his head and turned to Cas. “Let me fill you in,” he said. “We have a plan.”

“You’ve got shit is what you’ve got,” Dean countered, watching his brother’s face fall. The room was quiet. It was clear that everyone had put a lot of thought into the plan, but he wasn’t sure whose idea it was. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, that detail mattered to him. So he asked.

“Whose idea was this anyway?”

“Mine,” said Evan, getting to his feet. Dean glanced at Brandy and realized now why she was so invested in knowing if Dean was hiding something. Her friend had turned kamikaze, and she was looking out for his best interest… making sure he wasn’t being taken advantage of.

“Well,” Dean responded, looking back to Evan, “you get points for bravery. But you have no idea what you’d be walking into. I’m not gonna let you do it.”

“Yes, you are,” Sam interrupted. “You’re going to let Evan get picked up and taken. It’s an acceptable risk. Once he’s inside, he can read the minds of everyone. Every guard. Every prisoner. Every password for every encrypted file and every code for every goddam door. He’ll know everything!”

“Of course he will!” Dean shouted back, “He’ll know everything. But he won’t be able to fucking DO anything! He’ll be a prisoner there, Sammy. And then what, huh? We’ll have one MORE person who needs rescuing and one LESS person to help us pull it off!”

Realizing they’d both been shouting, Dean stepped back. He worked to calm himself and then appealed again, in a softer voice. “Sam, I get what you’re trying to do here. You’d walk through fire to get her back. Hell, we all would. But this isn’t the way. There are no acceptable risks. You’ve always been the smart one, Sammy, and you know I’m right about this.”

“Maybe we should sleep on it,” Brandy suggested. “We agreed to come here and sleep so we could make good decisions, but no one has really slept.”

Around him, the group started to talk amongst themselves as they considered ending conversation and picking it up again later. Brandy was moving towards him and she smiled again.

“That sweetie pie smile of yours is trouble for me,” he teased as she approached.

“I know,” she grinned. “But I have one other question.”

“Go for it.”

“Why don’t you want Evan going in?”

Dean sighed. With the human lie detector in front of him, there was no point in being evasive. 

“I don’t want him going in because I can’t get him back out,” Dean admitted.

“That’s right,” she said firmly. “You can’t.”

As she said it, he hoped that perhaps she’d become his ally – agree with him that it was a suicide mission and talk her friend out of it.

“Me and Evan, we’re only with you guys because you said you could help him. Protect him. Keep him from being taken.”

Dean nodded, looking into her wide, dark eyes.

“But everything’s changed,” she continued softly. “I’m seeing things differently now, and so is Evan. That’s why he’s volunteered to do this.”

“Hey,” Dean said, grabbing her by the shoulders, “don’t even think it. He’s not going anywhere. None of us are. We’re not splitting up. We’re stronger together.”

“Exactly,” she said. “Stronger together. You said you don’t want him taken, because you can’t bring him back. And you’re right. You can’t. Not alone. But it might be possible that WE can. If we work together.”

It was impossible not to give merit to what she said when she had more to lose than he did. Evan was hers to protect. If she was considering the plan, perhaps he should too. In hindsight, as he watched her walk away from him, Dean realized that she hadn’t been trying to argue him into anything. She’d just wanted to make sure he was considering the idea. Thinking it over.

When she was a few steps from him, she addressed the group again.

“Are we all in agreement? Get some shuteye and talk about this again tomorrow?”

Dean looked around the room and saw most everyone nodding along. Some were getting to their feet and preparing to go back to their own rooms. Clearly this meeting was over.

“Okay,” he said loudly, intending for the entire group to hear, “We have a phone call at 3 o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Let’s be loaded and ready to go when we meet back here then. That gives us about ten hours to get some good sleep.”

“Yeah, sleep,” chuckled Andy, pulling Lily with him as he walked by Dean. “We’ll get some. Sleep, that is.”

Exhausted, Dean leaned on the wall as the rest of the group filed out.

“Um, Dean?” said Andy tentatively from the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“You should probably head back to your room so Lily and I can get some… sleep.”

Dean smiled in spite of himself when he caught the meaning of Andy’s thinly veiled innuendo. The smile faded as he followed the rest of the group out the door and realized that he’d been banished back to his room. The one he was sharing with Cas.

The wind was bitterly cold as he stepped outside and a few stray flurries were blowing in, dusting the concrete with white. He ambled slowly back to his room despite the cold, not yet ready to be on the receiving end of Cas’ cold shoulder.

Sam tapped him on the shoulder as he passed by, “Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on with you and Cas?”

Immediately he deflated. “Fuck if I know,” he answered honestly. “You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m asking you.”

“I don’t know, Sam. That’s the truth.”

“The way you ducked into the bathroom when Cas came in – I’ve never seen you hide like that before. I thought maybe you knew something… important. Something about Cas.”

“Nope. Sure don’t. Only thing I know is that he’s done with me.”

“Dean,” his brother lamented with pity in his eyes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“S’okay,” he replied, even though it wasn’t.

“Hey,” he said, his mind shifting gears, “what did he say when you asked him about the van rides?”

“Less than an hour, Dean. The van ride to your house in Kansas City was less than an hour.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, stunned by the revelation, “That means…”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “It means the place was close. Very close.”

“We’ll make sure Bobby knows, when he calls tomorrow,” Dean said as he started to walk away.

“Dean?” called Sam from behind him.

“Yeah?”

“I really am sorry.”

Dean shot a questioning look at his brother, wondering what he was apologizing for.

“Cas. I’m sorry about Cas.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” he said softly as he stepped up to the door of his motel room.

He really didn’t want to go in. But also, he did. Dean could no longer imagine a world where his day didn’t both begin and end in Cas’ arms. But if he couldn’t rest in those arms, at least he could rest near them. With an aching heart, he opened the door and stepped inside.

For a split second, he thought Cas was going to speak to him. Their eyes met from across the room and Cas’ mouth twitched ever so slightly. Hope swelled and then fell again as the face of his one-time friend turned to stone before his eyes. Without a word, Cas crawled into his bed facing the wall.


	7. Going Home

Once he woke, Dean found it impossible to stay in the room with Cas. There were miles of distance spanning the three feet between their beds, and Dean couldn’t take the weight of all the things going unsaid between them. Seeking relief, he stepped out into the cold. Pacing up and down in front of the four adjacent doors belonging to his group, Dean tried to think through what would need to be discussed when he spoke to Bobby today and how to phrase those things. He wasn’t out there long before he heard the click of another door.

“Hey,” he said, turning to see his brother walking towards him.

“Hey.”

“Anything new while you were sleeping?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

“Anyone else up?”

“Don’t know,” he said, nodding towards his door. “Lily stayed with Andy after the meeting and Brandy went back to Evan’s room so it’s just me in there now.”

“You mean you’ve got that room to yourself?” Dean asked incredulously. “Then why’re we freezing our nuts off out here?”

“I was climbing the walls in there,” Sam said morosely.

“Well, let’s clean the guns then,” Dean said, gesturing to the Impala.

Sam nodded and the two walked across the lot in silence. They opened the trunk and stuffed duffel bags full of weapons and equipment, which they carried back to Sam’s room and spread out on the table and beds. Taking each piece apart, cleaning it and putting it back together gave their hands something to do. Dean’s eyes wandered to the clock on the wall several times over the next hour. It was almost 1:00. Soon, others would be waking and showering. They’d need to eat.

“I’ll be with you when you speak to Bobby, right?” asked Sam, finally breaking the silence.

“Sure, Sammy.”

“I know you’re not on board with our plan, but I think we should run it past Uncle Bobby and see what he thinks.”

“I’m not gonna stop ya.”

“No?”

“No.”

Quiet fell over the room again, nothing but the clicks and clacks of two men methodically moving from one pistol to the next. The scent of gun oil permeated the room. Outside, the wind was picking up. When Dean spoke again, Sam didn’t look up from his work. Dean was glad. It was easier that way, just talking as they worked and not having any eye contact between them.

“It wasn’t easy coming out, Sammy. I mean, I guess it’s not especially easy for anybody. But with our family? Dad? C’mon. I knew how it was gonna be.”

“But you did it,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah, I did,” Dean replied with a nod, “and you know why?”

“Why?”

“Cause it’s my life. Not Bobby’s. Not Dad’s. Mine.” It was silent for a moment, probably because his brother could feel him gearing up to say more. “Sammy,” he continued, “life sucks some days. I mean it. Some days, you can’t win for losing. No matter what we do… we’re just fucked. But for all the pain and suffering and bullshit… it’s ours. This life we bitch and complain about is the only one we’re gonna get. There’s no do-overs. There’s no time-outs. So we just gotta live it. Own it. Do it our way. I mean, what’s the point of holdin’ back, right? At some point, it’s just stupid to live for what other people want and need. At the end of the day, Dad’s not living for what I need, right? Neither are you. I mean, sure we take care of each other, especially you and me. But we each have to do what feels right for us or we’ll lose our shit.

“So, yeah, when I decided to come out I knew Dad was gonna do what he had to do. But I couldn’t go another day living my life as if it was his life. I had to be what I am – cause this is the only life I’m gonna have.”

Sam nodded acknowledgement but didn’t speak. His hands continued their work as Dean went on, “I went to my prom with a chick, man. It sucked. I spent all night watchin’ this kid, Danny. Everybody knew he was gay. He spent the whole night alone, leaning against the wall. By the look on his face, you woulda thought his folks had made him go. He looked like there was about a thousand places he’d rather be. I didn’t know him at all, but I wanted to go over there so fuckin’ bad. I wanted to tell him he wasn’t the only one. Maybe even dance with him just so I’d know what it felt like to dance with a guy – and so we’d both maybe have some fun. But I didn’t do shit. I danced with Lisa. I got hammered, and I put my hands on her ’cause I was expected to. It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t what I wanted.

“And what did I get out of that night, huh? It was my fucking senior prom. The only one I’ll ever have. And it was one of the worst nights of my life. When I think about it now, I can see that I mostly did it for him. And why, right? S’not like he was fucking there to see it. He saw the _picture_. But he’s my dad. I knew what kind of son he wanted, and I tried to be that. I tried for way too long.

“But one day I just thought, well, fuck it. Right? I mean… Dad’s got his own life. He does what he needs to do. And now, so do I. Maybe he’ll make his peace with it. Maybe he won’t. But that’s on him. That’s his life. If he wants to spend it not speaking to his son, then that’s his choice.”

Sam’s hands stilled then, and he looked up. “What are you saying, Dean? Is this your way of telling me that you’ll understand if I go ahead and send Evan off on a suicide mission?”

“I’m saying,” Dean said firmly, “that Sarah’s your girl, and that this is your life. I’m saying that you gotta do what you gotta do. But I’m also saying that whatever you do better be okay with you later, when you look back on it. Cause if the end doesn’t justify the means – then you’re the one that’s gotta live with it.”

Sam nodded understanding, but neither spoke again. Dean kept his hands busy, but in the silence that followed, his thoughts turned to Cas. It was pointless to keep replaying the events in his mind – fruitlessly searching for something he’d missed – some trigger – some word or action that had taken his friend and lover away from him in one fell swoop. Pointless though it was, to keep circling his mind, he couldn’t break out of the cycle.

Cas wasn’t a fickle man. In fact, he was probably the most earnest man Dean had ever met. Knowing that, Dean had to acknowledge that whatever had changed Cas’ mind about them was probably not just some thoughtless thing that Dean had said or done. If Cas had loved him that morning, and then somehow stopped loving him that evening, it wasn’t because of something that Dean could control.

No, this change of heart from Cas was far more likely to be the result of something Cas had learned or discovered about himself or his situation. Perhaps he’d suddenly remembered something that changed things for him? Maybe he’d even had another lover at some point and only now remembered him. Or maybe he’d made a connection between two previously singular thoughts and it changed his view of things… of Dean? It was impossible to know. But he sensed that there was something big… something he’d likely understand one day, with time and distance.

The thought should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t. Thinking of a distant future did nothing but remind him of how secure he’d been in their commitment, even a few days ago. It had seemed so inevitable with Cas, right from the start. In hindsight, he could see that he’d never even questioned it, never even considered that they were meant to be anything but together. His wasted heart, still so devoted, could feel nothing but desolation at the loss of it all.

When the others woke, Dean told the group to go to the café down the street and get some food. He handed Cas one of the bogus credit cards and asked him to bring back something for himself and Sam. It wasn’t easy talking to Cas, but he had to start somewhere. Cas, to his credit, didn’t do anything to make their exchange weird. His eyes didn’t linger, but they didn’t avoid him either.

As the group was leaving, Dean glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes until Bobby would call. Dean fumbled through his bag until he had the appropriate phone in his hand.

“We need to grab a few more of these,” he said of the burner phones, sitting down on the bed.

“Hey Dean, how long was it? How long did you fake it for Dad?”

“Fuck, who knows,” he said, stacking pillows up behind himself to get comfortable. “Too long.”

“Why didn’t I know?” his brother asked him softly, puppy dog eyes locking on his.

“Didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should’ve.”

“It’s done now.”

“I guess. I just always thought it was you and me against the world. I mean, you used to say so.”

“It was,” Dean answered, quickly changing his answer to, “it is.”

“Then why not tell me? I told you about some pretty heavy stuff… my visions… that wasn’t easy for me, Dean. But I told you. I mean, you were my big brother.”

“Exactly, Sammy. I was your big brother. I liked it that way – me watchin out for you. I liked you lookin up to me. I guess I just didn’t want to risk you seeing me different. Ya know? In case it changed things.”

“Well, it didn’t,” Sam responded firmly. Just then, the chirpy digital sound of their cheap phone ringing broke the tension between them.

“Hey Bobby,” Dean said in greeting. “Sam’s here, and you’re on speaker.”

“S’good to hear from you boys. How you doin?”

“Not so good, Bobby,” Dean said, the words sticking in his throat, “we’re a man down.”

“Who we missing?”

“Sarah.”

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

“That changes things. I was gonna say we should meet up. Maybe now there’s not time for that.”

“Where you at?” Dean asked, both he and Sam leaning forward.

“Well, you remember where Ellen took you boys the first day of summer almost every year?”

“Yeah,” the brothers said in unison, both smiling as their eyes locked.

“We’re not that far, Bobby,” Dean said, surprised at their luck. “We could be there in less than two hours.”

“Do it,” Bobby said. “Come in easy. Meet us at the Wendy’s across the highway.”

“We’ll see you soon, Bobby,” Dean said, feeling a lump rise in his throat as he said it.

“You idjits be careful,” he cautioned, and then he was gone.

“You heard the man,” Dean said, hopping to his feet and turning his attention to packing up their bags.

“I can’t believe they’re so close,” Sam said as he began helping Dean fill their bags. The brothers cleared the room and then paced as they waited for the others to return, both remembering their time at Bobby and Ellen’s house. It had taken some adjustment for the boys, raised on the road, to settle into a normal life. Sleeping in the same house every night, focusing on mundane things like homework and chores in lieu of weaponry and research. It hadn’t been easy on the adults either – they’d lived a different kind of life before the Winchester brothers had moved in. The domesticity was new to all of them. But Ellen really had been the glue that held it all together, Dean could see that now.

Her attempts to do motherly things for them were often unsuccessful, especially at first. But when school had let out that first year in Kansas City, she’d woken them for the first morning of summer break with a gleam in her eye. The four of them had rushed through breakfast and climbed into an old junker together, taking the interstate to the east edge of town and following a long line of cars to the entrance of Worlds of Fun, an amusement park that brought loads of visitors from nearby states to Kansas City in the quest for summer fun.

Bobby may have grumped and cursed as he was dragged from one attraction to the next. But he’d softened as the day went on – even joining for a few rides in response to Ellen’s challenges. After that it had become a tradition. As they became more settled over the years, Dean and Sam had even been allowed to each bring a friend on the outing. The memories of it all lingered warmly, a balm for the hollow and aching heart he carried heavy in his chest.

When the others returned from the diner, they brought Styrofoam take-out containers of food back with them. Dean accepted them from Cas’ hands with a thank you and made an effort not to let their fingers touch.

“Pack up,” he told the group. “We’re outta here in ten.”

The group dispersed to their separate rooms to gather their things, and Dean followed his brother back to his empty room. The two settled at the shitty table, now smeared with grit and gun oil. They shoveled in food quickly and without speaking, leaving their door ajar.

Finishing, Dean shoved the last bite of a greasy burger in his mouth and pushed his empty container aside, trading it for the smaller container and popping it open. He smiled warmly when he saw a piece of pie inside. _Cas._

When Lily pushed her head in the door and said they were ready, Dean shoveled in his last few bites of pie and rose to follow her out.

“I didn’t get pie,” Sam complained as they exited.

“I know,” chuckled Dean.

_Cas. Sweet Cas._

 

 

 

 

The ride to Kansas City was short. But for some reason, it felt way too long. Dean was crawling out of his skin as they approached the city… he’d not been here in far too long. The wind was still howling as they neared the metro area, and it buffeted the car. Dean kept to the outskirts, their little caravan still avoiding freeways and overpasses as best they could. The area they were headed for was out near the edge of the city and they only had to pass under I-35 in one place. But, the path they had to take was convoluted. This wasn’t their part of town, but they were close enough for it to feel like a homecoming. When they emerged onto 48th street, Dean couldn’t help thumping Sammy’s leg.

“Look,” he said, gesturing to his left and pointing across an empty field. On the far end, emerging from between two distant groves of trees was an unmistakable outline, “You can see the top of the roller coaster.”

Sam craned his neck to see and smiled, “Worlds of Fun. I think this place is one of my best memories.”

“Me too,” nodded Dean, returning his attention to the road.

As they took the long way around the park, Dean explained that only he and Sam would be going into Wendy’s. The rest of the group, divided between the two vehicles, would wait outside. With one vehicle on either side of the building they’d have a quick getaway from any door if it was needed.

Walking inside, Dean found himself working to keep his pace slow. He was so eager to throw his arms around Bobby, that he was even outpacing his gangly moose of a baby brother.

When he moved into the small dining area, full of rickety tables and worn out booths, he came to complete stop. Stunned, he gawked even as Sam piled into him from behind. There, in a booth with Bobby, were Rufus and John. It shouldn’t be so surprising to see his father. After all, he’d known that John and Bobby were together. But he’d grown so accustomed to his father’s careful avoidance that he’d come to expect it.

Regaining his composure, he walked up to their table. As the brothers approached, the men stood and stepped up to greet them, falling in for hugs. Dean went straight to Bobby and threw both arms his neck. He’d missed the man far too much to bother with feeling awkward about the hug. To his right, Sam was embracing his father and when they parted, Sam moved on to hug Rufus who was patiently waiting his turn. Dean paused for a beat, wondering how to act towards John. But before he could decide on a course of action, it was decided for him.

John’s face may have been stiff, giving away nothing, but his arms reached out and pulled Dean into them.

“Good to see ya, son,” he said, clapping Dean on the back. It was unexpected, but oh so welcome. Dean worked to keep his poker face on, steeling himself against his emotions so as not to let his father see weakness in him. The hug was over way too fast, Dean being pulled in and then pushed back out in one easy motion.

Before he’d even realized what was happening he’d been pushed from his father to Rufus and then back away from them.

“Good to see you boys in once piece,” Bobby was saying as they all slid into the booth. Dean watched from his window seat as Bobby pulled a chair from a neighboring table and perched at the end to face them.

“We’re sitting ducks here,” he said gruffly. “Best talk fast.”

“What do they know?” Dean asked Bobby.

“Everything I know.”

“Okay then. Here’s what you old codgers don’t know.” Dean grinned, snaking Bobby’s coffee and taking a sip before continuing. “Our little group has grown. Sam’s visions all seem to lead us to other people who have some kind of power. We’ve picked up a girl named Lily. You ready for this? This’ll blow your mind,” he said as he leaned in, “When she touches someone, their heart stops. She can kill with a touch.”

The men were silent, clearly stunned.

“We also saved a girl named Brandy,” Sam added. “She can tell when people are lying. There’s a guy named Evan who can read minds. And we’ve got Andy with us too. You remember him, Bobby? He’s that guy me and Dean went after in Oklahoma… you know… right before we stepped into all this bullshit.”

“I remember,” Bobby said, clearly urging Sam to continue.

“Andy’s gift is mind control,” Sam said to Rufus and John, “and, he’s been helping all of us practice. We’ve found that we can improve our skills with focus.”

“So you’ve been training?” Rufus asked.

“Yep. Weapons, hand-to-hand combat, and our abilities. We were doing good, Dad,” Sam said with a note of pride. “We really were. Until…”

“They used Sarah’s telepathy to trick us,” Dean said, injecting himself back into the conversation and looking at Bobby rather than John. “She heard a boy crying out for help, and we all drove clear the fuck out here to save him. But when we got here, they were waiting and they got her.”

“She’s alive,” Sam reassured, probably more for his own benefit than anyone else’s. “I’ve seen her in my dreams, and she’s unconscious but alive. I can see her, but I can’t figure out where she’s being held.”

“We might be able to help you there,” Bobby said, leaning awkwardly to reach into his back pocket. “While you kids were playing superhero summer camp, us real heroes got some solid intel. We’ve got an old buddy named Frank. Paranoid as they come,” chuckled Bobby.

“And with good reason,” Rufus interrupted snidely.

“Well anyway,” Bobby said, talking over Rufus, “he’s a guru for all things electronic. He’s been hacking away from a little camper that moves around evasively.”

“The thing’s probably covered with aluminum foil inside,” laughed Rufus, John joining in.

“He got us a list,” Bobby growled, bringing Dean’s attention to the paper he was spreading out on the table. “This here is a list of all the federally owned buildings that are eligible for classified use. We’ve been casing these one at a time… looking for The Lab.”

“What lab?” pressed Dean, “The lab you told me was shut down over a decade ago? That lab?”

“That’s the one,” Bobby replied sarcastically. “It ain't gone like we thought. When it was dismantled, I assumed that they’d failed to make enough progress and gotten shut down. It happens all the time. Now, it’s lookin’ more like they did what they set out to do. If we’re right about that, it means The Lab didn’t shut down. It just went underground. Classified.”

“Yeah,” Rufus added, “top secret, high-level bullshit. That’s what that is. Bull. Shit.”

“You’re right,” Dean said firmly, “I’m sure of it. That lab is where Cas came from. It all fits.”

“What do you mean when you say that you’ve been casing them?” Sam asked. “And what lab? What are you guys talking about?”

“Your brother can fill you in later,” John said. “Right now we’re short on time.”

Sam seemed to accept this. But he clammed up after that, seeming to realize that he knew less than the others at the table. Dean glanced at his brother, who had just been reduced to the role of spectator, and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Then he turned his attention back to Bobby.

“What do you mean when you say that you’ve been casing these places?” he asked, repeating Sam’s question.

“I mean, we’ve been investigating. An operation like that isn’t invisible.”

“Damn near,” Rufus chimed in again.

“Right,” said Bobby. “We come into the area quiet-like, we watch the traffic coming and going, we check into the names posted on the signs and the doors, cross reference anything we can, we watch for the patterns and behaviors of the security. It’s just good old-fashioned investigation,” he finished proudly.

“That’s quite a list,” Dean said, skimming over the list of addresses. Several dozen were already crossed off, but there were so many more. “You can cross off Fulton State Hospital. If they’re using that, it’s just a rendezvous point.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, the way Cas described The Lab, it’s nice. He called it ‘home.’ He said they all do. Everything’s state-of-the-art. Walls and floors are clean and white, locked doors open with codes and thumbprints. But we pulled Sarah out of Fulton. She was tied to an old rusty bed in an abandoned building on the grounds. Not exactly in keeping with a secret underground lair on a federal budget.”

“I would agree,” Bobby answered, drawing a line through Fulton.

“And clearly Hiawatha’s a dead end,” Dean added. “We went over that place with a fine tooth comb. Nothing at that address.”

Bobby crossed another possibility off his long list.

“Wait,” Sam said, sitting up straighter, “An hour, Dean, remember? Cas’ van ride was under an hour from your place.”

“Excuse me?” Bobby said gravely, leaning forward.

“Cas,” explained Dean. “He said that when they would leave The Lab, he was taken in and out in a windowless van. The ride to my house was under an hour.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Bobby cursed, looking past him and Sam to meet eyes with John.

“All these years,” John sighed, “all this time… it was right here under our fucking noses.”

“We’re going in, right?” Sam asked, eyes sparkling with hope. “We’re going to go in and get her, aren’t we, Dad?”

“We’ll see,” John said gruffly. “Get out of town a ways. At least an hour away. Keep training. We’ve just narrowed that list WAY down. Give us a few days for recon. We’ll call you kids when we’ve got a plan.”

“No need,” Sam said curtly. “We have a plan.”

John laughed out loud. For some reason, it set Dean’s nerves on edge. Sammy deflated in his seat, but he didn’t give up. He turned his pleading eyes to Bobby and Rufus and let loose.

Dean was proud as he watched his brother lay out the plan that he and his friends had come up with. When he’d finished, Dean watched his father slap Sammy on the back and say, “I like it.”

“Of course you do,” Dean retorted bitterly. “You don’t even know the kid that volunteered for this shit show. He’s young, Dad. Sammy’s age. He’s not going in.” Seeing his dad’s face harden, he turned to his surrogate father, “He’s not,” Dean said with all the conviction he could muster, “He’s not going in… is he, Bobby?”

Avoiding John’s eye, Dean waited for Bobby to be the mediator, the voice of reason.

“Not if I can help it,” Bobby finally said. Dean was stunned to see his uncle even consider it.

“C’mon,” he said, looking back and forth between Bobby and John, “What would you say if someone wanted to send Sammy in there, huh? You’d never let that happen.”

“It would depend on what was at stake,” John said coldly. Bobby didn’t disagree. Rufus was nodding along. Dean knew a lost cause when he saw it.

“Look,” said Rufus, clearly closing the subject, “We’ve got some other leads, and now we’ve got a very short list of locations. Give us a few days to see what we can put together. If there’s any way to get in there without using your boy… then we’ll do it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Dean conceded. This was as close to a win as he was going to get, and he knew it. The men were sliding out of the booth and he followed, pulled into a hug as he got to his feet. He hugged back, clutching Bobby firmly for as long as he could get away with before moving on to Rufus and then, John. There was still a stiffness between them, but this was more than he would’ve expected – even if he’d known his father would be here.

As they walked towards the exit, Bobby pulled Dean back discreetly by the elbow and allowed Sam and John to pull out ahead.

“Go ahead and fill Sam in on everything. It’s time for him to know the full story. Ol’ Frank found the minutes from an old meeting that somehow got filed in the wrong place and wound up scanned in the system. It’s got some information on the injection serums that were being used around the time that Mary was there. You’re daddy’s onto something – thinks there’s a way to figure out what your brother was given as a baby. You bring your brother up to speed, okay?”

“Yep.”

“And Dean?” he said as they moved to separate.

“Yeah?”

“Ride by the water tower on your way out of town. The colorful one.”

“Okay?” he replied questioningly, uncertain of what he was meant to do when he got there.

“You boys take care now,” Bobby called as the three ex-agents turned away from the brothers.

“You too, Uncle Bobby,” Sam called from beside him. Dean simply raised his hand in an affable gesture.

On this side of the restaurant, Dean and Sam climbed into the van as the men climbed into a nondescript sedan that Dean didn’t recognize.

“What’s the plan?” Andy asked as they drove around the restaurant towards the Impala.

“We lay low for a few days. The old codgers have some leads to work.”

Sam looked over at Dean and smiled, whispering, “You and Dad.”

“What?”

“It was just good to see you guys back to normal.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Dean said gruffly, with an eye roll.

“I would,” Sam laughed, “were you expecting an apology? A Hallmark card? What you got from dad in there... that's as good as it’s ever gonna get, Dean.”

Dean leaned into his brother, bumping his shoulder and smiling. Sam was right. That was all the reconciliation he would get. And as they drove the side streets away from the amusement park, he realized that it was enough.

“Hang a left,” he told Andy. “We’re headed for that water tower that looks like a damn carousel.”

“Why?” asked Sam.

“Not sure,” he replied. But from a block away, Dean saw why they’d been sent here. Parked in the service entrance along the road was Ellen’s fully restored 1969 Harley Electra Glide. It was her pride and joy. Dean felt his throat start to close up as they neared and slowed to pull in. Praying Sam would miss the action, Dean lifted the back of his hand to his cheek to wipe away the tear that slid out against his will. When they’d pulled to a stop, he pushed forward and shoved the sliding door of the van open. He hopped out, eyes searching the empty area for some sign of her. She stepped out from between two trees, her black leather jacket pulled tight around her core with gloved hands. She moved to him quickly. Unlike his father and his uncles, Ellen didn’t hug him quickly. She pulled him in tightly like a mother would do, and she didn’t let go.

A half second later, Dean felt Sammy glob onto them too. The three stayed like that for a quite a while, Ellen’s long hair whipping in the wind and lashing their faces as they embraced her.

“Oh, I’ve missed you boys so much,” she whispered softly. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

When they finally pulled apart slowly, she asked, “So you’ve seen your father?”

“Yeah,” nodded Dean.

“These must be your friends?”

At that moment, Dean remembered that they weren’t alone here. He cast a misty-eyed glance behind him. The Impala was now parked behind the van and everyone was standing around watching and waiting. He introduced them all to Ellen. She took a few moments to talk to the group, expressing her heartfelt sympathy for everyone when she found about Sarah being taken.

“Here,” she said then, pushing an envelope towards Dean, “You could probably use this. I would’ve tried to get more if I’d known how many mouths you’re feeding.”

“No, Ellen,” he said as he pushed the envelope back to her. “We still have some left; I’m not taking that unless we really need it.”

“You might,” she replied. “It could be a while before I see you again. Take it now. If you don’t need it, don’t spend it.”

“Where are you even getting all this?” he asked her bluntly.

“Well, what you started with was from Bobby’s Chevelle. You don’t even wanna know where this came from.”

“Bobby sold his Chevelle for us?”

“Bet your ass. Woulda sold the shirt right off his back if you boys needed it.”

“We’ll never forget this, Ellen.”

“Damn straight,” she said with a mischievous half-smile that Dean had always loved. “You boy’s take care now,” she said as she stepped back towards her bike.

“You too,” Sam mumbled as they parted. “We miss you.”

 

 

 

The sun was already setting as they’d stood at the water tower. By the time they were back on the highway it was dark. They left town, but didn’t go far and wound up checking into the Roadway Inn on the main drag of a small town called Sweet Springs. Dean was feeling paranoid, being so close to Kansas City, so they parked their cars at the Night Inn, which was two blocks away and off Main Street. Then, in the blustery wind, they walked the few blocks back to their hotel.

After such an emotionally taxing day, it wasn’t easy to book separate rooms for him and Cas. It was even harder to hand his friend a key and walk away, stepping alone into his own accommodations. But Cas had been far kinder today than at the onset of their breakup, and as much as he wanted to share a room with him still, he knew it just wasn’t fair to either of them.

Thankfully, he wasn’t alone for long. Andy joined him for a bit, smoking him out with the last of the cheap weed and not leaving until they’d burned through everything – even the shake in the bottom of the baggie. He hadn’t been sure if he’d be able to sleep or not, keyed up like he was. But he did. He didn’t remember Andy leaving and he slept for quite a while. The pre-dawn stillness and quiet in his room was unnerving, so as soon as he was showered and dressed, Dean sought company.

 

 

 

Sam didn’t get much sleep. He’d been tired, but as soon as he’d fallen asleep he’d been plunged into a dream. He worked to keep calm and focus, using the techniques that Andy had taught him. Sadly, there was no new information gleaned from the experience and after jotting down a few inconsequential things in his journal, he laid back down and hoped for some real sleep. None came.

Instead, he found himself dreaming regular dreams. He stood in the clearing for a bit, watching Sarah train with their friends while her laughter echoed empty and distant in his ears. Then he was looking at her from his pillow, soft in the moonlight as she slept beside him in their bed at the cabin. His consciousness whisked him from setting to setting against his will, never really allowing him enough time in the good places and leaving him for too long in the bad ones. He woke up again, even more tired than when he’d fallen asleep.

The lights stayed off as he staggered to the bathroom, Sam trying to keep himself from waking up too much. It was there, in the dark as he lifted the toilet seat that he heard her voice. Not her distorted dream voice, but her real actual voice. She must be awake now, because she was calling out to him.

He stood there, tears streaking his cheeks in the dark and musty bathroom as he answered her calls again and again. But it was for nothing. His voice couldn’t reassure her at all because her mind link only went one way. She could talk to him, and he could hear her. But when he answered her, she couldn’t hear him with her mind – only her ears. Any conversation would be impossible. He was good for nothing but to listen to her.

She was distraught. She missed him. She was sorry she’d lied to him, and she spent an inordinate amount of time explaining her reasoning. She told him she’d try to get him any information that would help them, but even awake, she had no new information to offer.

From that point on, sleep was impossible. Her voice was too shaky; her terror barely contained. There would be no calming himself while he could hear it. Instead, he paced idly and waited for the others to rise. Within an hour, he had company at the door.

“You hear her too?” he asked when he saw the disconcerted look on Lily’s face.

“Yeah.”

They spent the rest of the night together, just surviving the emotional fallout. It was like having an infant cry but not being able to hold or soothe it.

“Andy needs to get us some more weed,” Lily joked in a hollow voice. “I don’t know how long I can keep it together like this.”

“I wish I could just tell her to hold on,” he said softly, “to let her know that we’re coming for her soon.”

“She knows,” Lily reassured. But Sam could see by the look on her face that it was a lie. If Sarah were confident in her imminent rescue, she wouldn’t sound so terrified as she repeated the same information over and over like chant or a prayer. It was nearly dawn when Dean came to the door.

“Welcome to the party,” Sam said as he swung the door open for his brother.

“Been up all night?” he asked.

“Most of it. Sarah’s awake now, and she’s talking.”

“Anything useful?”

“Not yet.”

“Hang in there, Sammy,” his brother said as he clapped his shoulder.

“I wish the guns needed cleaning again,” he confessed, wishing there was something to occupy his attention – or at least keep his hands busy.

“Well, there’s a bunch of anti-drone shit in the trunk. As close as we are to the city, maybe we should dust it off and put it to use?”

“That’s not a bad idea. I don’t really know how to use any of it, though,” he laughed. “If only we had a laptop that I could use for research instead of waiting for a library to open.”

“Cas knew all about it. You could go ask him.”

“You think he’s awake?” he asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” his brother replied, shrugging his shoulders. It broke Sam’s heart a little to watch his brother pretend to be indifferent regarding Cas when he was anything but.

“You coming?” he asked as he pulled on his jacket and moved to the door.

“Naw,” Dean replied, “I’ll stay here and babysit your minibar.”

“I’ll help him,” Lily laughed. “I’m not the least bit interested in learning a new skill right now.”

Leaving them behind, Sam moved down a few doors and knocked on the one belonging to Cas. The man answered far too quickly to have been asleep.

“Hey Cas,” he said, “a little birdy told me that you might be able to teach me how to use the anti-drone stuff.”

“Certainly Sam. Just a moment.”

Sam stepped in out of the cold and waited while Cas put on his shoes and grabbed his room key.

“Is it weird having a room to yourself?” he asked as they walked out the door.

“Yes,” he answered.

Sam was hoping that Cas would start talking… tell him what was going on between him and Dean. But he didn’t. He walked quietly alongside Sam as they moved down the street and toward the other hotel where the vehicles were parked.

“It’s too cold,” Sam complained as they covered several blocks of open ground. The wind was cutting right through his clothes, and he was chilled already. “I hate my brother’s paranoia right now,” he joked, referring to the strange parking arrangements.

“Paranoia?”

“Yep. We’re close to home. It’s got him scared.”

“It’s wise to be scared, Sam,” Cas responded.

“Do you know something I don’t?” he asked, looking over at his companion, “Something you don’t tell me because you think I can’t handle it?”

“Who’s to say what we can handle,” Cas responded cryptically, “We never really know what we can handle until we’re at the edge of it.”

“Cas, what does that even mean?”

“I’ve answered you the best I can, Sam. I apologize that I can’t be more helpful.”

When they reached the Impala, they opened the trunk and Cas morphed into the teacher he’d often been at the clearing, going over each piece of equipment and how it was meant to be used. Sam worked to memorize the information on each. As the sun rose in the east, they put everything away to avoid drawing attention to themselves. As they locked up the trunk and began walking, they laid out a plan to move the equipment to their hotel room and begin monitoring drone activity in the area. Cas assured him that there would be some activity – that there were far more drones in the air than most people realized. Not all were government or even commercial, some were owned and operated by civilians for their own amusement.

“But,” Cas finished, “if we see heavy activity or repeating patterns, we’ll have to assume the worst and run interference.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam said as they reached the hotel. Having his attention drawn away from Sarah’s constant chanting had been sweet relief for a while. But it was short lived. Her voice once again captured his full attention as their conversation died out. It was as they stepped over the threshold of his hotel room that she screamed for the first time.

The surprise of it stopped him in his tracks and he looked over at Cas, his stomach knotting up in a sickening sadness and pity that threatened to double him over. Cas was cringing.

“You hear it too?” he asked.

Cas nodded emphatically and suddenly Dean was stepping up to him from deeper in the room. “What?” he asked, “What do you hear?”

“She’s screaming,” he answered, unable to hold back the tears and clutching his brother, “She’s screaming. Dean! What do we do?”

Dean looked dumbfounded, mouth agape. Clearly it had never even occurred to him that this might happen… that when Sarah woke, they’d all have a front row seat to her torture. Sam couldn’t look at Dean’s face – so utterly lacking in leadership. His eyes swept quickly from thing to thing, searching for something to settle on, something to ground him. Lily was crumpled on the bed nearby, hands over her ears. Cas was mouthing something to him.

“What?” he asked, needing to focus on Cas to hear his words over the garbled, choking, ragged screaming in his ears.

“Re-education,” Cas repeated, then he added, “She’s with Naomi.”

“How long?” he pleaded, “How long will it go on?”

“It depends on how she reacts,” said Cas, clearly having to struggle to listen and speak while someone pleaded for mercy in his ears. “For her first time, probably only an hour or so.”

Sam heard the words and then felt his knees buckle. The ground swam up on him quickly and then everything went black.

 

 

 

 

Dean watched helplessly as Sam went down. He’d never felt so far out of his depth. Lily was falling apart on the bed. Sam was passed out on the floor. Cas was white as a sheet and appeared unsteady on his feet. For the first time, Dean was grateful, through and through, to not be counted among the gifted.

Sam didn’t stay down for long, and when he saw his baby brother flailing, trying to get to his feet, Dean reached down and helped him stagger to the bed. With Lily on one bed and Sam on the other, Dean looked to the door. He expected Andy and Brandy and Evan to come charging in any moment, but they didn’t.

It was impossible to think coherently with so much anguish and chaos around him, but one resounding thought kept pushing itself to the forefront of his mind. _I need to call Bobby._ Dean felt like if he could just have a few moments of peace to think… he might have a prayer of figuring out what to do. But like this? With his brother falling to pieces in front of him and Lily’s wretched sobbing in his ear? Cas so clearly needing him but unwilling to allow contact… no. He couldn’t think straight at all.

Bobby had said they needed a few days. That had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. But not now. They didn’t have days. They didn’t even have hours. Really… how long could they hold out like this?

 

 

 

Cas watched his bright shrink into himself. He’d never looked so lost before. He wanted to reach out for him… give comfort… even as he sought comfort himself. Or, at least a reprieve from the sound of agony that rang in his ears.

He’d made those sounds before. He knew how this felt. To hear someone else experience it? Especially someone as warm and wonderful as Sarah? The horror of the situation was bad enough in itself. But watching Dean come to grips with what was going on was even worse. More than anything else, the very foundation of Dean’s being was built around taking care of people. He acted more like a father than a brother to Sam. And Dean, upon befriending Cas, had cared for him too. As broken as he was when he’d been rescued, the first thing he’d done was tend to Cas’ every need. His hunger, his thirst, his need for safety and security and companionship. His poor bright wouldn’t know what to do if there were people that needed help and he was powerless.

He looked to the clock, checking the time. He looked again when Sarah finally went quiet again. She was silent for short intervals which were perforated with fresh screams and then eventually she quieted fully, her screams reduced to gurgled pleas for mommy. All in all, she’d screamed for over half an hour and then off and on for another half hour.

“She’s not talking,” Sam blubbered, sitting up on the bed and looking at Cas with desperation in his eyes, “Is she dead?”

“No,” he answered firmly, “She just wishes she was.”

“She’s not talking,” he said again, “Did she pass out?”

“Maybe,” he agreed, “Or they put her to sleep.”

“How long will they give her before they start in again?” Sam asked, wiping his face and getting to his feet.

“A few hours at least,” he answered honestly.

“Get everyone together,” Dean interrupted as he moved to the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Sam.

“M’gonna call Bobby,” Dean said firmly. “The burners are in my room. You need anything?”

Cas watched Sam shake his head no. He understood completely. There was nothing to be done for poor Sam. Cas couldn’t imagine having to hear Dean like this. This was just one of the million ways that the love in his chest could be used as a weapon against him. He was glad he’d stopped things with Dean – that his love would grow no larger in him. And he was sorry, too, wishing he’d had the sense to stop sooner. He could almost see it now, much like he saw a swirling of darkness at the core of Sam, he could imagine a swirl of soft pink hovering in his own chest, curling there and pulsing with the beats of his heart. If he’d gone on long enough with Dean, he was certain it would have grown to fill his entire body.

When Dean burst back in through the door, he had a phone to his ear and he was speaking tersely to someone. Cas guessed it was Dean’s uncle, Bobby. As his bright walked through the door, Andy followed.

“Well, that was quite a wakeup call,” Andy said to the group, “What’s the plan?”

“No plan yet,” Lily said softly, still curled into a fetal position on the neighboring bed, “Got any suggestions?”

“I liked Evan’s idea,” he said as he sat down.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” responded Brandy, who was just walking through the door to join them.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because Evan has deployed,” she answered, looking around at the group.

“What?” said Lily and Sam, both getting to their feet.

“What did I miss?” Dean asked, pulling the phone away from his ear as his eyes wandered the room and took in the sight of everyone getting to their feet.

“Evan,” Cas answered when no one else spoke. “It seems as though Evan may have done something rash.”

“Bobby,” Dean said. “Let me call you back.”

Cas stood there and watched Dean’s eyes move from face to face to face around the room.

“Someone tell me what’s going on,” Dean said gruffly.

It was Brandy who answered him, sounding far more calm than Cas would’ve expected.

“When the screaming started, Evan left. He’s heading back to Sacramento. He’s going to do like we planned – go back to the house he’d been camped in and let himself be taken.”

“Why. The fuck. Did he leave, without talking to us first?” Dean demanded. Cas watched Brandy shrink away from his anger.

“Because,” she replied meekly, “he said he didn’t want to waste time arguing. He said that he could be halfway to California in the time it took this group to agree and let him leave.”

“Fuck,” Dean said, leaning against the wall.

“Thank you,” Sam said, rising from the bed and moving to embrace her, “Thank you, to both of you… for caring about her… for being willing to risk…”

Cas watched Sam pour out his heart to Brandy while Lily soothed and shushed him from behind. Then he let his eyes wander again to Dean, whose attention was now fixated on his phone again. He kept a close eye on Dean’s face as he dialed a number and raised the phone to his ear.

“Bobby, we got a problem here,” Dean husked, his eyes meeting Cas' as he spoke, “We’ve got one off the reservation.”


	8. Another Man Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you MoniJune, for your work on this and for your general awesomeness!

 

Dean had to work hard to keep himself calm as Bobby rapid-fired questions at him. He parroted Bobby’s questions across the room to Brandy and then fed the answers back to his uncle. When exactly did Evan leave? “Almost an hour ago.”

What vehicle did he take? _Better not be in my baby. “_ Brandy, did he take my car?”

“No,” she’d responded. “That would’ve given him away since we were using it in Hiawatha. He wanted to be sure and arrive in a car they didn’t recognize, so he stole one.”

 _Damn, kid has balls._ “You heard that, Bobby?” he asked into the phone, “Stolen car.” Then he cupped his hand over the phone and addressed Brandy again. “Make and model?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted softly. “It was a late model sedan. Black. I’m sorry, I don’t know much about cars.”

 _Fuck._ “Bobby, you getting all this? Stolen car, heading for California with an hour head start.”

To Dean, Bobby seemed perplexed and a bit uncertain as he said, “Just sit tight. Let me think on this a bit and git back to ya. Toss this phone and call Ellen from a new one in an hour.”

Now that they’d hung up, all there was to do was pace the length of a tiny room and let his mind run in wild circles. He’d really been admiring both Brandy and Evan lately. Though he’d thought of them as scared kids when they’d first joined the group, they were far from it. Each was brave and smart in their own right, but together, they were a force. Both had balls, and Dean had to respect that. He especially admired Evan’s willingness to stick his neck out for this new group of friends. When he’d argued with Dean over it the other night, he’d been resolute.  In hindsight, Dean had to wonder why he’d not seen this coming.

As he paced, the rest of the group was tending to each other. The girls fawned over Sam like he was a lost puppy. Andy hovered around Lily, trying to be helpful. Cas was very still. He looked around the room, following the activity but not really participating. A few times Dean felt those magnetic blue eyes settle on him, but when he looked over expectantly, Cas’ eyes quickly shifted away from him.

“I need to try and sleep,” Sam said softly as he stood. Dean nodded and stepped aside to let his brother pass. Brandy rose and muttered that she’d take care of him as she followed him out. Lily then left with Andy, saying she needed to try and get some sleep, “While it’s quiet.”

The comment was nothing but a stinging reminder that any peace they had right now would be short lived. Dean took the phone he’d used apart and submerged it in water to destroy it. With nothing else to do with his hands, he paced. It was quiet. Too quiet. He missed the cabin… all the bodies crammed into a small space with only the illusion of privacy. Everybody heard almost everything through the walls, so even the secret things weren’t really that secret.

At least at the cabin, everyone had been in the same room to discuss things. They usually huddled around the fireplace and passed around a bottle when they talked out their problems. It was easier to be the group’s leader there; where there was an open forum for discussion. Here, there were too many walls between them. They were broken down into couples, or small groups. Having everyone in the same room for any length of time was too claustrophobic.

With everyone having filed out of the room, including Cas, Dean had only his own thoughts and no insights from anyone else to build on. He knew that the group would soon be back. They’d be suffering with Sarah’s voice in their ears, and they’d be looking for answers from him. A Plan. Something. Anything.

But so far, Dean had nothing to offer. He thought briefly about going to Cas’ room, just to talk. To see if Cas had any ideas. _God I miss him._

As he paced, Brandy’s face kept popping up in his mind. The way she’d looked when he’d questioned her. He’d been standing there with the phone on his ear, passing information to his uncle, and in the chaos he’d not really seen it. But now, with time to reflect, he began to realize that her posture and her stance were very familiar to him. She’d been stiff and rigid, holding a tense frame. The young girl had also been careful, only answering specific questions without using more words than was strictly necessary. Hers hadn’t been the mannerisms of someone who’d come running to her friends with important news. Actually, her demeanor was more in line with that of someone who was holding a press conference – giving only planned statements and being careful not to say too much.

Suddenly realizing that Brandy had known more than she’d let on, Dean spun on his heels and stepped out into the cold. He jogged down a few doors and knocked urgently. When there was no answer, he got a sinking feeling in his gut until he remembered that Brandy had left with Sam. He stepped over to Sam’s door and began knocking again. His pounding was answered quickly, Brandy sticking her head out into the cold and whispering harshly, “Shhh… he’s trying to sleep.”

“Come out here,” he said firmly. He watched her glance back into the darkened room and then step out, closing the door softly behind her.

“What?”

“You know more than you’re saying. Tell me.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re a lousy liar,” he told her. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Bullshit. There’s something. I know there is. Now, I know you’re doing what you think is best, so I’m not pissed or anything. But I’m tryin’ to figure out what the fuck to do, and there’s six lives in my hands. I need all the information or I might do something wrong… make a mistake… get someone killed. Now, what am I missing?”

“Nothing, really, it’s nothing. You know what you need to know.”

“The fuck I do. If you’re keeping secrets from me then you’re not a friend to this group. Don’t force my hand.”

She seemed to soften a little then, her posture relaxing in submission. She leaned up against the exterior wall of the motel and bit her lip, considering. Frustrated as he was, Dean had to fight the urge to grab this girl and shake her. He took a deep breath and forced himself to wait for her.

“Okay,” she said on an exhale, “I know the route he took. And I have a burner phone. He’ll call it if he gets into trouble. That’s how we set it up… if he needed help then he’d call me and I’d get you involved.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the audacity of this pair. They were just his type.

“Alight,” he answered. “At this point he’s got almost two hours of lead time. I’d never catch him on my own. But if we all go, we’ll eventually catch up because he’ll need to stop and sleep and we won’t.”

“Why? Why do you want to catch him?” she asked.

Without hesitation he said, “’Cause it’s easier to save him now than it will be once they take him.”

“Let them take him,” she said firmly. “He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life running. I’m sure you can understand that. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into. He heard the screaming too. He knows exactly what he’s driving towards, Dean.”

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t let him do this… he’s just a kid.”

“No. He’s not. He’s old enough to enlist – to die for his country. Would you intercede if he wanted to join up and go over to Afghanistan?”

Dean couldn’t argue that one. She had him, and she knew it. It was impossible to hold back an answering smile when she grinned at him.

“I’m hungry,” she said as she pushed away from the wall. “Can we order pizza with those fake cards of yours?”

 

 

 

 

Sam looked around. No clocks. He looked down. Nothing… just blackness. Quickly he looked up again, eyes searching for an object to focus on, trying to anchor himself and avoid slipping down into the darkness at his feet. Too often, that exited him from a dream. This time there was no room for error. He needed information; Sarah’s life hung in the balance. He simply MUST stay in this dream.

It took a moment to get acclimated because this room was vastly different from the one he’d seen her in before. That room had looked like a hospital room; this was anything but.

The space was large and multi-purposed, white walls and furniture. One end was dominated by a large desk, almost like an office space. The opposite end was banked with cabinets and equipment. In the middle was a reclining chair, much like those that dentists used. Resting in the chair was Sarah. Her neck, her hips, her wrists, and her ankles were all locked down with canvas bands that were attached to the chair. Beneath the chair, the floor sloped down towards a drain. His stomach rolled at the implications of that drain. But again, he steeled himself. There was no room for error. He MUST stay in this dream. He had to find out where she was.

Returning his eyes to his love, he saw that her beautiful dark hair had been cut short. Her alabaster skin was mottled and bruised. Directly above her, a television screen was mounted in the ceiling. He peered up at it, watching for a moment. The words were lost to him, as though the volume was turned way down. But the longer he looked at it, the more he began to hear. The voices sounded distant, but friendly. The faces that flashed on the screen were smiling. “Family,” they kept saying, “we’re your family. You are home.”

Looking back down at Sarah, his eyes skimmed over her. He was gearing up to turn away from her and begin looking for clues near the desk when something caught his attention. Her wrist. There was clear tape on in. Looking closer, he could see through the tape to the distorted image of a new tattoo… the letters ADA.

Suddenly he was back. _No_ , he thought, _not yet!_ _Just a few more minutes!_ But it was too late. He could feel his body betraying him… cramped limbs aching to roll over… bladder full and needing a trip to the bathroom. It was useless to try and sink back into the dream when his body wasn’t comfortable. He’d not be able to fall back asleep. Irritated, he rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

When he came back out, he realized that he was alone. Brandy must’ve tip-toed out while he was sleeping. Pulling his journal into his lap, Sam began scribbling down what he could remember from the dream. The layout of the room didn’t seem important, but he sketched it out anyway as he idly wondered how far apart they were, these two rooms where he’d seen her.

He sketched out her tattoo as well, making a note of the bruising and the haircut as well as the video that played on even when she wasn’t conscious.

When he’d finished, he was wide awake. He pulled the last few bottles out of his mini bar, tucking a few into his pockets and popping one open as he headed for the door.

To his left was Andy and Lily’s room. It was quiet in that direction, but to his right he could hear muted voices coming from behind Dean’s door. He knocked and then pushed in without waiting for someone to open the door, bringing a gust of cold wind in with him. He was greeted by the smell of pizza.

Everyone was here, lounging about the room and eating. If it hadn’t been for the lack of laughter, this could have been a party. The atmosphere may have lacked joy, but he found himself glad for the company. He tossed his journal to Dean and grabbed a slice of pizza.

“Anything?” Brandy asked from the other bed.

“She’s alive,” he answered around a mouthful, “sleeping.”

“What’s this?” asked Dean, holding up his journal and pointing to the three letters he’d sketched out.

“They tattooed her.”

Cas got up and took a few steps to peer over Dean’s shoulder at the page in question. It was the closest Sam had seen the two in days.

Cas mouthed the word once and then said it out loud. Sam knew the three letters were ADA, but Cas pronounced it as “Aida”. More disturbing than the tattoo itself was the look on Cas’ face when he read the name.

“I didn’t look at the clock when I went down,” he admitted, looking at Brandy, “How long was I out?”

“Couple hours,” she answered, “We’ve been busy.”

“Oh yeah? What’s been going on?”

“Cas showed us how to search for drones in the area. We’re all going to take turns. We’re keeping track of their flight patterns.”

“Wow,” he responded, pleasantly surprised. “What else?”

“We talked to Bobby,” answered Dean. “He basically said to do nothing… just see what happens.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed, gesturing to the pizza boxes, “I cooked dinner.”

Sam threw back as much whiskey with his pizza as he could, hoping it would make him sleepy. Dean seemed to be keeping pace with him. When he started to feel a noticeable buzz, Sam decided it was best to get back to his room where it was quiet. Brandy followed him out and stayed with him, talking softly or not at all as he drank himself the rest of the way into a stupor.

 

 

 

Dean watched his brother and Brandy leave. She seemed to have glommed onto him now, but Sammy didn’t seem to mind. Lily and Andy stayed for a while, but eventually they left too. Dean cast a glance at Cas, secretly hoping he’d stay for a bit and talk. But as usual, he ambled out quietly.

Cas’ room was right next door. Dean leaned up against the wall that now separated them and his chest ached as he thought about giving a knock, just to see if Cas would give an answering knock. It felt like he stood there for ages leaning on that wall, seeking to be as close as possible to his lost friend. He could see now that it was the loss of the friendship that had broken his heart more than anything else. The sex had been great, but he could live without it. 

If they never fucked again, he could live with that; if only they could still be friends. If only he could go next door right now and confess his loneliness and have Cas rest a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. Even that might be enough to soothe the ache.

It was a long and lonesome night and when he heard Sam knocking, he was relieved to have some company. However, Sam’s presence was heavy. His head hung wearily as he trudged in, and Brandy followed behind him in a similar posture.

“You guys okay?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” they answered together.

“She’s screaming again,” Sam added. When he looked up at Dean for the first time, his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. “I can’t even cry anymore,” he said forlornly as he flopped down. It was a long time before the two visibly relaxed, Dean’s only indication that Sarah had gone quiet again.

He slept soundly on one bed while Sam and Brandy sprawled on the other. At some point he got up to pee and then flopped back onto the bed. He’d just dozed off again when an unfamiliar sound woke him. As he sat up, uncomfortable from having slept in his clothes and shoes, he realized that the sound was a cheap cell phone ringing. Blinking his crusty eyes open to look around, he saw Brandy scuttling off the other bed. She rose to her feet and pulled the phone from her back pocket, raising it to her ear.

“Evan?”

At that moment, Dean knew they were in trouble. If Evan was calling – something had gone wrong. He heard Brandy gasp.

“What?” she asked. “Are you shitting me?”

Dean got to his feet and in his peripheral vision, he saw Sam doing the same. They both stared at her, hearing only her end of the conversation.

“Where?” she asked, moving fast as she gestured for something to write with. He passed her Sam’s journal with the pen still sticking out from between the pages. She began to scribble as she said things like, “Um-hm” and “Okay” and “Fuck!”

Finally, she said, “We’re on our way,” and then gave him an “I love you,” before hanging up.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Evan’s been arrested.”

“Where?”

“Denver.”

“Fuck!”

“I know. He’s sorry. We both are.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, moving across the room to embrace her, “You guys were only trying to help.”

Then he turned back and asked, “So Dean, how do we want to handle this? Split up and have some of us stay here? Or, should we all go?”

“What? You mean to Colorado?”

“Well, yeah,” answered Sam. “We can’t just leave him there to rot.”

“Dammit Sammy,” he replied, irritated to have to seek advice again, “you call Bobby this time.”

“I will,” he said in a repentant tone, “and I’ll take the first shift driving too.”

Dean reached out and plucked Brandy’s phone from her hand. He tossed it to Sam and said, “May as well call him from that before we destroy it.”

 

 

 

Cas hadn’t been sleeping well. A few hours at a time was about all he could manage. The little sleep he did get was punctuated with vivid nightmares of being back home… in Naomi’s chair… in his small room with his tiny bed… no friends… no coffee… no sunshine… no pie… no Dean.

It wasn’t until Sarah fell silent that he finally fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. When he heard knocking at his door, he kicked back the covers and forced his eyes open. There was bright light seeping in from behind the heavy drapes so he knew it was morning. Before opening the door, he checked the peephole. Then he undid the lock and swung the door open wide for Sam.

“Hey,” said Dean’s little brother as he stepped inside, “I’m supposed to tell you to pack up. Evan’s been arrested, and we have to go get him. Bobby doesn’t want us to split up so we’re all taking a little road trip.”

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Denver, Colorado. And I’ll just warn you now, Dean’s pissed so keep clear.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

“Can you be ready in 15?”

“Yes.”

Sam turned and left then, likely needing to pack up his own things. Cas took a few minutes to prep the anti-drone equipment for travel and then took a quick shower. He missed the cabin and the warm cozy life they’d had there. But it was hard to complain when there was hot, running water for showers. He stepped into the warm spray with a sigh, it was pointless to try and fool himself. It wasn’t the cabin he missed. It was Dean.

Logically he knew that trying to stop loving Dean was necessary. But the longing he felt kept him constantly second-guessing his decision. Several times each day he’d remind himself how foolish it was to try and stop loving someone. From what he knew of love so far, it was likely impossible. But then clarity would revisit – usually in the form of fear.

Naomi would take Dean from him. That was inevitable. But how much it hurt when it happened was up to Cas. The more he loved, the more pain he’d feel at the loss of it. Already, the pain was almost more than he could bear. To imagine amplifying that pain was his undoing and it made him resolute. He must not allow himself to fall any further in love with Dean Winchester.

As he rinsed the soap from his hair, Sarah awoke. He could hear the panic in her voice as she began talking. Unlike her previous verbalizations, this one was not directed at Sam or their group. She was talking mostly to herself. “My name is Sarah,” she said firmly. Then she started repeating it. Over and over. “My name is Sarah. My name is Sarah. My name. Is Sarah. My. Name. Is. Sarah.”

That was the beginning of a very long day of travel. The radio played in the vehicles and the group tried to talk to one another, but none of it helped. There was nothing to drown her out. On some level, everyone seemed to be relieved that she wasn’t screaming – especially Sam. But Cas knew something they didn’t. He knew why she was chanting her name over and over. After only a few days, she was already losing her sense of self.

Brandy had filled them in on the details of Evan’s arrest as they drove, what she’d been told anyway. He’d been picked up for a burned out taillight. The officer had run his plates as part of the routine traffic stop and found the vehicle to be stolen. The car had been impounded and Evan was transported to the District 5 police department. He’d been in custody all night before getting his phone call, which didn’t happen until after he’d seen the judge. Bail had been set at $10,000.

According to Sam, Bobby had told them not to use a bondsman. He wanted them to go ahead and use the cash Ellen had given them to post bail. He’d told the brothers that he’d do his best to get them more as soon as possible. Cas didn’t know how Bobby always managed to come through for them, but so far, he had.

Cas rode quietly, surreptitiously watching Dean’s face in the rearview mirror. He got caught once or twice, but tried not to let it bother him. It took most of the day to get to Denver and then a good hour to find the place where Evan was being held. Cas was surprised when Dean spoke to him, asking him to watch the vehicles while he and Sam went inside to retrieve Evan. He was even more surprised when they returned without him.

“W-Where is he?” Brandy stammered when the brothers came walking up empty handed.

“He’s not here,” Dean said, perhaps a bit too harshly.

“Not here?” she gaped.

“No,” said Sam, reaching out to hug her. “They say custody was surrendered a few hours ago…”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.

“They said that Homeland Security came in and took him,” Dean answered, obviously not mincing words.

“Can they even do that?” Lily interrupted.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “They’re fucking Homeland Security. They can do whatever they want.”

“But what would Homeland Security want with him?” she replied, “It’s not like he’s a terrorist or anything!”

“We all know what this means,” he interrupted, looking back and forth between the Winchester brothers.

“What?” asked Sam, “What does this mean, Cas?”

“Either Homeland Security was called to assist, or someone posed as Homeland Security. Either way, it was them.”

“Them?” repeated Dean questioningly, “As in… The Lab?”

“Yes, Dean,” he answered, trying to remain calm. “Evan is right where he wanted to be.”

“Well,” Dean replied weakly, looking down at his feet, “As much as I fuckin hate it, we need to call Bobby again. He’s gotta know.”

“We shouldn’t be standing around here,” added Lilly, “they could be watching.”

“You’re right,” Cas answered quickly. “Let’s go.”

They all clambered into the vehicles and headed out of town as quickly as they could without drawing attention to themselves. As they retraced their route back to the east, the group conversed openly about Evan’s situation.

“I don’t get it,” Andy said loudly. “The original plan was for us to watch Evan and follow when he was taken, bust him out. What good did he think it would do to be taken without us? I don’t get why he’d just go off on his own like that.”

“Because,” Brandy answered, “he knew that would never work. But he’s confident that within a few minutes of being there, he’s going to be able to absorb enough information by reading minds that he can just walk right back out. He hopes to bring Sarah out with him.”

“He thinks pretty highly of himself, doesn’t he,” Dean snarked.

Cas couldn’t help but chuckle at Dean’s sentiment. He was right, too. Evan may be brave, but he was naive. Did the boy think he was the first gifted person to be brought there? Much more powerful gifts than Evan’s were tucked safely away in that place.

Sarah made one, Evan made two. Their group now numbered only six, and Cas sat wondering which of them would be next as he watched the winter landscape pass outside his window.

 

 

 

 

The group was pretty quiet as they drove back toward Kansas City. Dean put in a call to Ellen, giving her an update on the recent events which he knew she’d pass along to Bobby. When they’d finished speaking, he tossed the phone out the window and into a river as they passed over it. Then, he spent most of the drive thinking about Evan – his brave plan and the likely result. They stopped once to eat shortly after crossing the state line back into Kansas.

Coming through Lawrence was strange. Dean’s earliest memories were here, and for some reason he had a strong desire to drive by the old house that they’d been living in when their mom had died. He fought against the impulse, knowing that any place with ties to his brother or father was a bad idea. Instead he pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a Motel Six just off the turnpike. They topped off their tanks at the adjacent gas station and then grabbed sacks of Burger King to take with them to the motel. Sarah had been talking off and on all day, but at least while they ate she was silent.

Dean watched his brother tense once over dinner. It was a familiar posture and facial expression… not the one he wore when Sarah was talking or screaming, but the one he’d always worn when receiving a vision. The moment Sam relaxed, Dean said, “Get anything?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe tonight.”

“Maybe.”

When they disbanded for the night, Dean watched Sam and Brandy walk out together. More and more they were companions. Perhaps it was because they were both missing their lovers. Or maybe they just didn’t want to suffer alone. Either way, Dean felt a stab of jealousy over them. If it weren’t for her, Sam would be seeking Dean’s company. But now he was alone again.

Pulling a few bottles from the minibar, he settled back on his bed and turned on the television. He would not lay here another night pining over Cas. Instead, he flipped channels and hoped for something interesting enough to hold his attention. Watching late night television got easier the more buzzed he got, and at some point he slipped into a restful sleep.

When he woke it was early, but he was pleased to have slept through the night. A long shower soothed the dull ache in his neck from where he’d slept on it funny and by the time he was dressed, he was seeing sunlight emerge from behind the drapes in his room. Good. Breakfast.

Outside, he moved from door to door giving a sharp knock on each and barking, “Breakfast.”

“What’s the point,” Lily growled when she emerged, “You wake us up at the break of day when there’s nothing to do and nowhere to go. For the love of all that’s holy, just let us sleep.”

“Sleep then,” he retorted as he walked away, “and enjoy your breakfast of mini bar pretzels and Pepsi.”

With an eye roll, she turned away from him and closed the door. Neither she nor Andy joined for breakfast that morning. But Sam had plenty to talk about. Over pancakes at the shitty diner on the corner, he told about the dream he’d had.

For the first time since her capture, Sarah had not been restrained. Sam seemed to take this as a good thing… pleased to have followed her down a nondescript hallway in the dream. She’d been sandwiched between two guards who donned light blue scrubs as though they were nurses. They weren’t rough with her, and she seemed okay, Sam said, even though he only saw her from the back.

However, when Dean’s eyes cautiously found their way over to Cas, his face reflected none of Sammy’s serenity. Unlike Sam, Cas didn’t seem to see the lack of restraint was a good sign. After they ate, the group headed back to the motel. As they walked, the topic of conversation turned to their restlessness. They all felt they should be doing something. The brothers had explained the recognizance that John, Bobby, and Rufus were working on. Now, tired of wiling away the hours with nothing to do, everyone seemed to think they could be helping.

“You should get a copy of the list and divide it up,” Brandy suggested, “We could be investigating some of these places too. It would go faster that way.”

“You ever hear the expression too many chiefs and not enough Indians?” Dean replied with a grin.

“Dean,” she replied, “we’re just sitting here doing nothing. It sucks. We could be helping.”

“Look, I know what you mean. I don’t like it any more than you do. But these guys… my dad and my uncles… they’re actually ex-agents. They know exactly what they’re looking for. We really don’t. I mean, sure, they could do a briefing and give us some pointers. But we’d still be nothing but rookies. We could easily miss something and pass right over the place. Or worse yet, we could make a mistake that would get us all rounded up and dropped in there with them. We need to be smart about this.”

Dean could see that she didn’t like it. Hell, he didn’t like it. It was no fun being set aside like this and told to just hide away while their friends suffered. The feeling was reminiscent of his childhood – him and Sammy sitting in a hotel room and waiting for their father to return, hoping he’d be alright. The feeling of utter uselessness was hard to bear.

Since the group had a hard time staying cooped up in the tiny motel rooms so they took turns going out for walks in pairs. The remainder of their time was divided between television and various forms of busy work.

Cas kept everyone involved in the anti-drone technology, keeping extensive lists of the patterns of movement. His room was the hub of this activity. But ultimately, it was a bunch of nothing… just something to do while they lingered here waiting. Dean avoided the scene as best he could, but sometimes it was impossible to stay away. The temptation of being near Cas for a while drew him like a moth to a flame.

 

 

 

 

Sam found himself with mixed feelings regarding Sarah as her patterns of communication changed. The messages she sent were becoming fewer and farther between. They were less emotional too. It had been sweet relief at first, but she seldom personalized her messages anymore. He used to be able to feel her anguish when she said his name… it matched his. Thought it tore at his heart, it was an affirmation that she was still his and still waiting for him to rescue her.

But with the relief from her torture came a new feeling. A creeping dread that he hated himself for feeling. A wish for her to call out to him. Instead, her chants had turned inward. First she’d focused on repeating her name over and over. Then she’d started reciting lists. She named her parents and her hometown and the schools she’d gone to and who her friends were. He understood that she was just hanging on to her life the best she could as she was tortured and emotionally manipulated. But it wasn’t easy to find himself reduced to nothing more than a single mention in a long list of names.

Today it was even worse. She wasn’t rhythmically chanting or listing anything. All he was getting from her were random thoughts. Things like, “I like my room” and “lunch was good” and “Dan is nice.” As he sat flipping channels, a realization settled over him. He’d seen her unrestrained, and now she was having relatively positive thoughts. She was losing. She wasn’t restrained anymore - because she wasn’t fighting. She was accepting her new reality. His blood ran cold as understanding washed over him. He was losing her.

The following day, they moved. Dean seemed to feel that they shouldn’t spend too much time in one location, fearful of either losing their vigilance or being noticed. At least the packing up, driving to another town, and then unpacking again was something different to break the monotony. They set up shop in Paola, south of Lawrence. Here, Dean surprised him by throwing them into a room together.

“Just like old times, right Sammy?” his brother had joked as they pushed through the door together, “Seems a waste of Bobby’s hard-earned money to each have our own room when we could be sharing.”

Sam had nodded his agreement, but he couldn’t help thinking… if his brother was lonely, why didn’t he just say so?

It wasn’t bad rooming with Dean. But honestly, Sam missed Brandy’s presence. She was just more attentive than his brother. Her every thought was centered around those that were missing, while Dean seemed invested in keeping Sam’s mind off the missing. Sure, each had their own way of dealing with things, but after they ate dinner he found himself leaving Dean behind and seeking out Brandy’s company.

As he stretched out on one of the beds in her room, she asked if he had any new info. The duality was obvious on her face… she was concerned for him and for Sarah but she was also hoping for any information that would soothe her concerns about Evan.

When she crawled up on the bed with him and curled into his body, it was the kind of comfort Dean just couldn’t provide. His brother wasn’t really one for soul baring, after all, nor for the giving of physical affection.

For some reason, it was just easier to be with Brandy when he was missing Sarah. Her warmth and compassion for him sank into his bones as she held him. And he reassured her too… wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. They talked of their lost ones without fear of reprisals or worries of making each other uncomfortable. Their devotion to their missing lovers was undeniable, and the physical ache that they carried as a result was eased with reassuring touch.

Dean may care for him and want to be there for him, but he couldn’t imagine snuggling up to Dean like this for comfort. And honestly, he wouldn’t want to show his big brother that kind of weakness anyway. Here, tangled into the arms that best understood his pain, Sam was able to fall into a deep sleep.

More and more he was finding himself confident in his dreams. The visions that occasionally struck him during his waking hours couldn’t be controlled. Within them, he was powerless and reduced to the role of a spectator. But in his sleeping dreams, he had some ability to navigate. Using the techniques he’d learned from Andy, he was now able to look around and move about in the dreams. His recollection of the events upon waking had also been improving with practice.

Now, instantly aware that he was dreaming, he began his usual drill. He looked around for confirmation that he was, in fact, dreaming. With that established, he pivoted around to get a 360 degree view of his location. He was in a hallway with a white ceiling, walls, and floor. The appearance of this place was in keeping with the other places he’d seen Sarah, so he looked around for her. She was nowhere to be found. The hall was empty. At one end was a set of heavy double doors with no handles. At the opposite end was a T-intersection with doors to both the left and the right. On the wall, painted in blue, were huge block letters. A giant letter A on one side and a similar letter B on the other. These letters were at least 4 feet tall, meant to be seen from the opposite end of the hall. The scene was reminiscent of an elementary school hallway with the exception of the pristine white paint color.

Without Sarah to focus on, he found himself looking around. There were several other doors in this corridor to explore, but what caught his attention was the texture of the walls. They were cinderblock… another reason why this place was almost more similar to a school than the hospital he’d previously compared it to.

From behind, a loud clunking startled him. Whipping around to face it, he saw the hulking steel doors swinging open and he could actually feel the whoosh of air that accompanied the action. A smile slid into place as he watched Sarah walking through the doors. She was beaming widely, obviously elated. A young man was walking next to her, and he was smiling back at her.

“That was incredible!” she marveled to her companion.

Then, Sam had to watch as she walked by him. Her scent wafted toward him as she passed. She looked very different with her blunt cut bangs and short hair. She seemed taller somehow, perhaps more formidable. As he watched, two guards fell in step with them and escorted them down the hall. His girl seemed to pay them no mind, as though they were there _for_ her rather than serving as her captors.

He watched as the four bodies moved down the hall away from him. Despite his surprise at her demeanor, he forced his feet to move and follow. As he passed the midpoint of the hall, his attention was stolen by a counter and desk tucked into an alcove next to another set of doors. It had the appearance of a nurse’s station in a hospital and his heart fluttered… computers… filing cabinets… INFORMATION.

He was completely torn. Follow her? Or, stop and seek information. The logical answer was obvious… go for the information. It was what he’d been seeking in all these dreams and had yet to find. But his heart was attached to his girl like an invisible tether. As she moved beyond the desk and away from it, her presence pulled him with her. That tug was his undoing. As he stood indecisively near the desk, still debating his course of action, he felt the dream dissolving around him. She and her small group turned toward the door next to the huge letter A, and that was the last thing he saw.

“Fuck!” he cursed out loud as the white evaporated away and his eyes blinked open to see only dingy motel room walls. The television had been left on and its flickering blue light toyed with his perceptions as he looked round. A brutal sense of failure was settling over him.

“What?” asked Brandy from beside him. He sat up and pulled away from her, wiping his eyes and reaching for his journal.

“Dammit,” he cursed, realizing it wasn’t here, “My journal… it’s in my room.”

“I’ll get it,” she said, bouncing off the bed. “You stay here and just think, hold the images.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, willing the white walls back to him and trying to keep the place fresh in his mind.

 

 

 

 

Dean was buzzed again. It wasn’t helping. He’d thought tonight would be different. Sam would keep him from being lonely, give him someone to take care of. But Sam had spent only a few hours with him before stepping out. Alone for the rest of the night, he’d watched TV and done his best to keep himself occupied. But it was useless. No matter what he tried, his mind always worked its way back to Cas.

When midnight had come and gone, he’d assumed that Sam wouldn’t be returning. He could hardly blame the kid. He locked his door and slid out of his jeans, palming himself as he leaned back on the pillows and stopped fighting against the thoughts of his raven-haired lover with the magical eyes. He embraced the images of those broad shoulders and thick arms, the dark treasure trail that had always pulled his eyes lower until they rested on the essence of the man. He missed that cock so much. He longed to suck it now, hold it in his hand. He stroked himself to the memory of it and pushed the flats of his feet into the bed, hips lifting as he worked himself over. _What I wouldn’t give for one more night._

The rush of endorphins carried him through his orgasm pleasantly, but within minutes he was coming down, devastated again and lonelier than he could stand. Needing to do something, anything, to take his mind off the pain he got up and moved to the shower.

He spent a long time in there, tired but not. As he washed his hair his mind flitted back… back to a hotel room in Moberly, Missouri. They’d just rescued Sarah, killed Ana and Zar, and had been desperate to get off the road for a while. There, in that shitty hotel shower, he and Cas had kissed and touched and Cas had watched him pleasure himself, grasping Dean’s shoulder firmly as he leaned in to look closer and watch Dean’s fist moving. He’d whispered a question in the moment, “Dean, are you mine the way I am yours?”

Cas had been so innocent then. He’d known little about the carnal pleasures of life but had been so very curious. He’d waited too… somehow knowing that after all Dean had been through, sex was fraught with mixed feelings.

Back then, they’d both been uncertain of what the future held. But Dean hadn’t wavered. He’d given his answer to Cas whole-heartedly. “Yes.” Because even then, he’d already he’d belonged to Cas body and soul. The oblivion he felt as he remembered their early days together was more than he could stand, and he cried as he rinsed the soap from his hair.

Toweling off, he had to admit that it had felt good to cry. It was like a tea pot giving off steam… letting off pressure. And, he was blessedly happy to find himself tired in both body and mind afterwards. He slid between the sheets feeling confident that he’d sleep well.

He’d not taken a look at the clock when he crawled into bed, so he had no idea how much sleep he’d actually gotten when he was jolted awake by a sudden and urgent knocking. Assuming it was Sam returning, he didn’t bother covering himself and moved to the door in only his boxers.

But, as he swung the door open, a gush of cold air assaulted his bed-warm body and Brandy pushed aggressively past him.

“Where is it?” she barked roughly. “His journal. He needs it!”

Dean’s brain came online quickly as her energy permeated the room. He fumbled for only a second before pivoting toward the chair where Sam’s duffel still sat untouched.

“Here,” he said over his shoulder as he unzipped it and dug inside.

She stepped up next to him and plucked it from his hand the moment he pulled it out. “Sorry!” she called as she darted out. Knowing that his brother must’ve seen something, Dean grabbed his discarded jeans from the floor and hiked them up as he ran outside in his bare feet. He was so close behind Brandy that the door hadn’t shut completely behind her. He managed to push through it and into her room.

Dean saw her hand Sam the journal and then sit down on the bed next to him, watching as he put pen to paper. Dean walked up slowly, sitting down on the bed opposite them and waiting quietly. As he did, Brandy glanced up at him and nodded a greeting before turning her attention back to Sam’s work.

When he’d finished, Sam handed Dean the journal. Dean took it, pulling it into his lap to look over the new entries. In his peripheral vision, he saw his brother sink into Brandy’s waiting arms.

“I blew it,” he complained into her shoulder. “I was _right_ there, and I blew it.”

“What?” she questioned.

“There was a desk… a computer… filing cabinets. But all I could do watch her walk by. I’ve failed her completely.”

“How did she seem?” asked Brandy – not even acknowledging a failure – hungry for information.

“Good,” he answered quickly, “Really good. She was happy. Smiling.”

“She was?”

“Yeah. It was… it was… disturbing,” he finally croaked out. “She didn’t seem the same, and it was just so _wrong_.”

“Well,” Brandy replied, “at least she’s not being tortured anymore. At least she’s okay for now… until we can get to her.”

“But she’s not okay,” Sam responded, still circled in her arms. “She’s not.”

Dean new he was meant to look over the journal, but all he could do was watch his baby brother fall apart. When he was finally able to direct his eyes to the book in his lap, he could see why Sam was so disappointed. There was really nothing of consequence here.

Clearly Sam was getting what he needed emotionally from Brandy. But, again, he found himself jealous. It should be him comforting his brother. With that in mind, he slid over to the other bed and sandwiched Sammy between himself and Brandy. He wrapped arms around his brother and told him he was proud of him, that he’d been so brave, and that they’d never stop until Sarah was back with him.

When Sammy was finally calm, he was devoted to getting back to sleep. Dean watched him down a few shots and snuggle into the fetal position on the bed. There was no point in asking if he was planning to return to their room. Sam was curled up with Brandy as if she were his teddy bear. As he walked to the door and left, he tried to be glad that Sam was getting what he needed, rather than be irritated that it wasn’t Dean he seemed to need right now.

The cold cement under his bare feet should’ve sent him scurrying back to his room, double time. But for some reason, he found himself passing by his own door and approaching Cas’. As if to remind him of his place, a cold gust of wind rose at his back and sent a shiver down his spine. Feet still moved forward though, stopping only when they’d reached the door behind which Cas likely lay sleeping. He leaned there for a moment, knowing he’d not be knocking but somehow finding relief in the proximity.

From the darkness of the parking lot came a deep voice, startling him. “Hello Dean.”

Fumbling for an explanation as to why he was leaning on Cas’ motel room door, Dean found nothing but a “Oh, um, hey Cas.”

“Do you need something?” he asked, head tilting inquisitively to the side.

“I…” _Yes. I do need something - I need you._ “I guess I just… couldn’t sleep,” he said awkwardly.

“Me either,” replied Cas, gesturing to the odd looking contraption in his hand, “I thought perhaps I’d spend a little time monitoring drone activity.”

“Mhmm,” he nodded, stepping aside when Cas gestured that he meant to pass by Dean and enter his room.

“I am simply not getting enough exercise to properly exhaust myself for sleep,” he went on to explain. Dean noticed that he wasn’t being banished away, in fact, Cas had left the door open as he walked into the room, which could only be interpreted as an invitation to enter. He did so, cautiously, perching there in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob. He didn’t want to close the door when he entered, fearful that enclosing himself in a room with the man might somehow spook him. But he couldn’t just walk in and leave the door hanging open either.

When Cas looked over at him, he realized that he’d left their small semblance of a conversation hanging. “Yeah, me either,” he finally forced out. Then he added, “I kind of miss all the weapons training and hand to hand combat.”

“Indeed,” Cas responded, setting down his equipment on the rickety table. It was silent for a moment, the air between them heavy. Then Cas took a deep breath and settled into a chair. He looked over at Dean and said, “I miss the cabin very much.”

“Me too,” he said softly, seeing this as his opportunity to close the door. He shut it softly with a click and tentatively seated himself at the other chair. So many things to say… they swirled around in his head like a brewing storm. But none made its way to his lips, and the tension in the room intensified as neither man spoke. Dean felt the moment, so full of possibilities, just pass him by. His heart wrenched with all that was going unsaid, and he felt his throat grow tight, eyes moistening.

“Are you alright, Dean?” Cas asked him, leaning forward.

_No. Not even a little. I miss you. I need you. I love you. I want you back. What changed things? Why have you left me? Why don’t you want me? I’m half a man without you._

“Yeah, man. M’fine,” he said, moving to stand. He managed to put his back to Cas before a tear rolled out. Working to hide the action he let his hand come to his cheek and wipe away the evidence of his pain. As much as he wanted to know why Cas had abandoned him, there was no point in asking. The truth was simple, Cas didn’t want him anymore. Did it really matter why? Did he need to hear the man articulate the reasons?

He realized now that he didn’t. All that mattered was that it was over. It would be no less painful if the reason were known. And possibly, it could be much worse. He didn’t want to know. On the heels of that realization, he saw that his only option was to leave. If he stayed here and confessed his weaknesses… it would do nothing but make him even smaller in the eyes of the man he coveted. No. Dean wouldn’t sink to that. He’d not blubber like a baby and beg this man not to leave him. It served no purpose but to humiliate him.

“Dean?” Cas said softly from behind him, likely wondering why he was just standing there facing the wall.

Recovering quickly, Dean kept his back to Cas as he bent down to the mini fridge and opened it, “Hey, man, you don’t mind, do ya?” He took out a few small plastic bottles, but Cas said nothing. “Mine’s empty,” he added as an explanation.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas answered from behind him.

“Thanks man,” he said, heading for the door. “Bet I can sleep now.”

He purposefully didn’t look at Cas as he walked past him, but he could feel those eyes on him as he leaned in to open the door, “See ya at breakfast,” he said as he exited.

It took everything he had not to fall apart until he was safely behind his own locked door. Twice this night he’d felt tears on his cheeks, and he wiped the cursed things away as he tore into his new bottles. He didn’t even look at the labels, chugging down burning swallows of one after the other. The only thing on his mind now was relief from the soul-crushing pain of needing something he simply couldn’t have. 

That next morning was hard. But he did it. He got out of bed. He went through the motions. He spent some time with Sam. He even went for a walk. It sounded so silly, but it really did help. Getting out of the cramped spaces and into the open air went a long way toward helping him feel better. The sky was a strange purplish blue and seemed heavy, pregnant with snow that refused to fall. The dark lines of bare branches cut against that sky and mirrored the desolation he carried with him in his heart.

Deep down, he knew that this melancholy wouldn’t last forever. People loved and lost all the time. Eventually, his heart would mend, and sooner or later he’d meet someone new. But for all that was holy, it sure felt like this would be the end of him.

It was after dark when soft, downy snowflakes finally started drifting in. For some reason, the knowledge that snow was falling lulled him into sleep. It had been a long time since Dean had woken to anything as mundane as an alarm clock. Lately, the sound of fists pounding a shitty metal motel room door were the source of his waking more often than not. So it was to be now as well. The urgency of the knocking was his barometer of how quickly he needed to rise, and in this case, it had him flinging back the covers and flying to the door.

When he pulled it open, he was face to face with Cas. The man was wearing only sleep pants and his bare chest was heaving, heavy breaths exiting as fog. For a glorious moment, Dean thought Cas was having a change of heart. He pushed in through the door and it seemed that he meant to wrap arms around Dean and press him up against the wall – ravish his mouth with ardent kisses and claim him once again as his own.

But no. He pushed his way into the room saying only, “Write this down.”

Dean scrambled to keep up, lurching towards the duffel bags for something… anything. He managed to recover a pen from the bottom of Sam’s bag, but the journal was what they always relied on for paper. There was nothing else. Looking around the room, he zeroed in on a pizza box that was perched on top of the garbage can. He snagged it and settled onto the bed with it, turning it over to the back side, which was blank.

He wrote furiously to keep up as Cas rattled off a street address as well as the names of several other streets and intersections. In his throaty voice, Cas listed off what seemed to be instructions too. Things like, “use the south door. Take the elevator marked ‘Private’ and go to sublevel 2.”

There was only a brief pause and then Cas began listing off numbers in quick succession and followed them up with more directions. Names. More directions. Then an address followed by intersections… it took quite a while to realize Cas was now repeating information he’d already given.

Dean used the repetition to look over his original notes and check them for accuracy, especially the groups of numbers.

“Ok, Cas,” he said when he was sure he’d gotten it all, “I got it. What the fuck is this?”

“Sarah,” Cas answered, breathing heavily, “She’s started talking again, and that’s what she said.”

Dean’s heart clenched and he leapt up – bolting for the door and yelling as he went. “Sammy? Sammy!”

He didn’t need to pound on the door. It was gaping open, snowflakes floating in on the breeze and melting on the ruddy carpet. Brandy was still with his brother, of course, but they were joined now by Lily and Andy who were also scribbling.

Walking slowly around the room and looking at everyone’s writing he could plainly see they’d all written the same thing.

“What is all this?” he whispered, looking at his brother.

Sam looked up at him, eyes haunted, “I don’t know,” he answered softly, “but I think… I think this is directions of how to come and save her. We’re going in, right Dean? We’re gonna go get her and bring her home, right?”

“Them,” Brandy corrected from beside him. “We’re going to get THEM. Sam, where do you think all this information came from?” she challenged. “Sarah has talked to Evan somehow… he’s probably been pulling bits of this information off of everyone who’s come near him. There’s no way this didn’t come from Evan. We’re not just going in to get her. We’re going to get THEM,” she finished firmly.

“Of course,” Sammy said, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze, “Of course we’re going for them. That’s what I meant.”

Even as they were speaking, Dean was turning to leave.

“Hey!” Sam shouted from behind him. “Where are you going?”

“To get a phone,” he hollered back over his shoulder. “It’s time to call in the big guns.”


	9. Storming the Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MoniJune, thank you very much. This chapter would have sucked without you.

Dean drove his baby with Sam beside him and Brandy in the back. Andy followed behind them in his van with Lily in the passenger seat. Cas had crawled into the back of the van where most of their munitions were loaded. He’d muttered something about doing a weapons check while they were enroute. It was an obvious ploy to avoid riding in the Impala. But Dean wasn’t one to dispute the need for a weapons check.

When they rolled into the predetermined meeting point, Dean couldn’t help but smile as he watched John and Rufus climb into the back of Andy’s van, lugging duffel bags of supplies. Bobby slid into the backseat of the Impala, and Dean followed his uncle’s directions out of the city to the south. It was late afternoon and the sun was tracking low across the sky, golden streaks of amber light skimming across the wide fields on both sides as they moved out into farm country. The remains of recent snow covered the fields but rows of dried corn stalks, chopped down during the harvest process, still protruded through the blanket of white. It was dismal scenery.

Coming upon a field access road that was hugged by a long line of grain bins, Bobby indicated for Dean to turn in. The van followed and both vehicles rolled to a stop in the middle of nowhere. Under a cloudless, grey sky everyone climbed out into the snow. It crunched under boots and seemed disproportionately loud.

A dozen yards away, Dean could see his father and his Uncle Rufus assisting Cas with the back doors of the van. He watched for a moment as the three began setting up anti-drone equipment that would scramble any in proximity and prevent them from recording anything. This was it. The big planning session.

The brothers had spoken with their uncles over the phone regarding the “big picture,” but the details of their plans were to be ironed out here, in person. Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder as he walked by, taking Brandy by the hand and walking her over to the back of the van. Dean followed reluctantly. Cas and Rufus stayed with the equipment, but turned their attention to the group who clustered inside the van around a large blueprint.

“This is rudimentary at best,” Bobby conceded. “The only thing it’s really good for is overall dimensions and support walls. Anything else could have been changed during the remodel they would’ve done when setting up. It’s not like the blueprints for these kind of facilities get filed at the courthouse.

“But our scouting confirms there’s only the three entry points,” he continued, using his fingers to point them out, “According to the intel we got from Sarah, this here is the one the employees use to get in and out. They scan a badge to get in and enter a code based on their security level.”

“This was a school?” Sam asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yep,” Bobby answered. “I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess. There’s a shit-ton of empty schools in the city. It’s been a problem for over a decade. There’s been half a dozen proposals of what to do with the empty buildings, contractors seeking tax incentives and such, but not much progress has been made. It’s on the news all the time.”

“It looked like a school from the inside,” Sam agreed, almost in a whisper.

“Well, like I said, there’s three exits. When we go in, John, Rufus and I will cover those. We’ll set up a perimeter so that nothing gets past us. In or out.”

“And we’ll go in,” Dean said, nodding to Bobby in recognition of the plan they’d already tentatively laid out.

“That’s right. You kids stick together. We’re waiting for a certain guard, one that’s known for getting to work at the last minute. He’ll likely be the last one to punch the timeclock. The shift change happens at eleven and after that, the overnight staff are the only ones on the property. It’s our best shot… going in while the big wigs are at home asleep.”

“Wait,” Lily interrupted. “We're all going in together? Isn’t that a bit obvious?”

“We’re blown the minute we set foot on grounds,” Bobby countered. “So it’s best to present a united front. You’ll have firepower but that’s nothin’. The best weapons you have are your gifts and you’ll be strongest when you’re together.”

“That’s right,” John added gruffly, “You kids don’t separate. Not for anything.”

“Yeah,” Dean added, slapping Andy on the back. “Our resident mind control guru is gonna make sure that Mr. Lateforwork is amenable to walking us in.”

“And Lily will be right there to drop anyone from security who tries to stop us once we’re through the door,” Andy said proudly.

“Damn straight,” Dean nodded, “and I’ll be right there backin’ you up. Me and my little friend,” he added, indicating his assault rifle.

“Me too,” Sam chimed in, pushing a backup pistol into his boot and threading a machine gun sling over his shoulder.

“We have directions to where Evan’s being held,” Bobby said, “and you need to get to him quick. Under a minute if possible. He’ll need to read the minds of everyone whose path you cross… make sure that no one’s tripped a silent alarm or somehow called for backup.”

“We’re your perimeter,” John said as he looked around the group. “And we’re also the guards for your prisoners.”

“We’re taking prisoners?” Lily gasped. “Isn’t that kind of risky?”

“It is,” Dean confirmed, “but we’re only putting down Darks and those that can’t be subdued. At the end of the day, most of these folks aren’t part of the big evil plan – they’re just going to work and pickin up a paycheck like the rest of us.”

“So Cas will point out the Darks…” confirmed Bobby.

“…And we’ll kill those evil sons-of-bitches,” interrupted Dean, eliciting a whoop from the group.

“But everyone else,” added Bobby, taking back control of the conversation, “Gets interrogated. Again, get to Evan as fast as you can. Not only can he read minds, but he’s been in there for days and he knows things we don’t. And Brandy, you’ll need to make it known if anyone’s lying. Even about something small. We never know what might be important.”

Dean watched the young girl nod understanding.

“As you kids get deeper and secure more of the building,” added John, “We can bring the perimeter in tighter. Once the building is fully secure, us retirees can help you with interrogations.”

“So what’s our plan then,” Brandy asked softly, “Kill the Darks as we take the building, rescue Evan and Sarah, and then do interrogations once the building is secure?”

“In a nutshell, yeah,” Bobby answered, casting a glance at John and Rufus, “we don’t know how many people that will leave us holding. But, we’ll have to decide on the fly what’s to be done with them.”

“On the fly…” Brandy repeated. “That’s our plan? Nothing more concrete than that?”

“Trust me,” John said as he locked eyes with her, “making the plan too detailed is always a mistake. There’s too much that can go wrong and that leads to indecision and sometimes disagreement about how to move forward when it does. It’s best to just lay out an overview and make sure everyone’s clear on their part. Any decisions made on the fly will be solid if we’re all focused on doing what we’re meant to do and have a unified vision as to what we’re meant to accomplish.”

“Okay,” Brandy said, slowly accepting the answer. “And then what?”

“And then,” John answered, patting the large plastic case next to him, “we light it up.”

“Is that really wise?” Andy countered. “I mean, to just blow the whole place up?”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Bobby laughed. “We don’t even have to worry about the fallout. We can blow the place to smithereens. The government will sweep it all under the rug for us, because they’re the ones with something to hide. We get a clean break, and they get stuck with the cleanup duty.”

Dean had to hand it to his uncles… they knew their enemy.

With the plan now in place, the group all converged on the schematic in front of them, doing their best to memorize the entry locations and the paths of the halls. This document had no mention of any subterranean levels, so any of that was to be a surprise.

Dean watched his uncles and father answer the last of the questions, and then the old codgers actually began passing around walkie talkies that looked like they had come from the toy section at Walmart.

“These are how we all keep in touch,” Rufus explained. “Low-grade technology is the way to go in a place like this. It’s something they don’t even watch for. Just remember as you use them that anyone might hear what you say. Don’t say more than you have to.”

“When do we head out?” Sam asked, clearly anxious to get moving.

“We’re only about ten minutes from the site,” answered John, laying a reassuring hand on his son’s shoulder, “We’ll load up at 10:30.”

Dean watched his father and his brother together and wondered how badly this whole thing could possibly go. Bobby exited the van and stepped out into the snow, putting his back to the group. Dean shouldered up next to him.

“How many do you think we’ll lose?” he asked, wondering if his uncle would lie to him.

“If I walk out with you and your brother, I’ll consider us lucky,” he answered.

Dean was stunned. “What about Dad?”

“Doubt it, boy,” he answered gruffly. “Best not to get your hopes up.”

“Why?” he whispered into the wind.

“Your brother’s goin’ in there for his girl. You’re goin’ in there for your brother… and maybe for Cas. But your daddy? He’s goin’ in there for revenge.”

Dean’s mind flashed to his mother and then began flicking through glimpses of their harsh life without her… their years spent on the road running and hiding and sifting through clues… the waste of his childhood and of his brother’s. “I hope he gets it,” he answered honestly.

 

 

 

 

 

Cas knew it was a suicide mission to try and extricate Sarah and Evan. They may as well march in together and surrender. They were going in at eleven. That meant he’d likely be back in Naomi’s chair by midnight. Dean would be dead, of course. He had no special talents that could be exploited so they’d discard him immediately. Lily, Brandy, Andy and Sam would all have their turn with Naomi. But he’d be first … he always was. She considered him to be an ongoing problem, the troubled child of the family.

“There’s something wrong with you,” she’d often told him. “Something fundamentally wrong. You’ve proven it time and time again. You, CAS, are a waste of the resources afforded you. You do nothing but disappoint.”

With her voice so loud in his head, it was a wonder he even heard the approaching footsteps. Turning towards the clomp of boots, he came face to face with Dean’s little brother.

“Hey Cas,” he greeted.

“Hello Sam.”

“You okay?”

“No,” he answered honestly.

“I was watching you,” he replied, “when we talked over the plan. You think we’re making a mistake, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say something? Man, nobody knows that place like you do. Tell us what to do, and we’ll do it."                                                                                                                                                        

“I have no alternative plan to propose.”

“So, that’s it then? You don’t think this is going to work, but you’re just going to do it anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Evan.”

“What about him?”

“Brandy said he wanted to do this because he didn’t want to spend his life running. Lately I’ve come to realize that I don’t either. I can never have freedom. I will always be worried that they will come for me and what will happen to those around me when they do. I may be walking right back into everything I’ve escaped from, but I almost think it's better that way; coming back of my own volition rather than being dragged back again. I’ll go in and I’ll make my stand. I’ll give it all that I have.”

No one spoke for a distended moment. The wind buffeted them and blew the scent of dried plants and earth in their faces. When Cas finally spoke again, he didn’t look over at Sam. He kept his eyes on the wide horizon.

“It’s like Dean always says, ‘better to go down swinging’.”

Sam didn’t answer, but rather clamped a hand on his shoulder in reassurance and squeezed before walking away. Everyone seemed to be circling one another, whispering platitudes and saying their good-byes. Clearly he wasn’t the only one harboring fears that they’d not make it out of this alive. Cas was surprised when he got a hug from Brandy. He’d not known that he meant anything to her. But her face showed him that she’d had affection for him, even if the only thing that had ever transpired between them was laughter and teasing.

When Lily walked up, he wondered if she might hug him too. But she didn’t. She stood there next to him and let her eyes grow glassy, staring out over the open field much like he was.

“You look like you know you’re going to die tonight,” she said softly.

“I should be so lucky,” Cas answered honestly.

“Are you going to leave it like this?” she asked.

Uncertain of what she meant, he turned to look at her. In response, she tipped her head to the side. Cas’ eyes followed her gesture and landed on Dean.

“I don’t know what happened between you guys,” she afforded, “but if we’re all going to die tonight, what difference do your other problems make? Why not throw the guy a bone, huh?”

“I don’t understand that reference,” he replied, wondering what a bone had to do with Dean.

“I mean,” she persisted, “you still love him; I can tell. It’s all over you. So why not spend your last few hours with him? Ride off to your death together?”

“You’re right,” he responded, “In theory. But in reality, I’m doing what’s best for both of us.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re not.”

He knew she meant well. But her words didn’t change his mind. The distance he’d created between himself and Dean had been hard won. It was better to maintain his solitude now than to give in to his heart and embrace Dean, only to scream for him later as he was forcefully dragged away. Thankfully, Lily didn’t linger to try and argue her point. She left his side and moved toward Andy. Cas watched them for a bit as they pushed open the sliding door of the van and sat down inside together. Andy laced his fingers with her gloved ones and spoke into her ear. For some reason, Cas was very curious about what the two might be saying to each other.

“You want anything to eat?” Bobby called.

He shook his head no and returned his gaze to the darkening sky. The wind was getting even stronger as night descended and it set a chill over him, but still he didn’t return to a vehicle. Instead he spent this, his last time as a free man, watching the sky. He’d not be seeing it again for a very long time. If ever.

 

 

 

 

 

Sam had received several bursts of information from Sarah over the last twelve hours, each with additional and more-detailed information. The group had all heard these and written them down. Having the entire group dictating was actually good for accuracy. But over the last few hours he’d not heard much of anything from her. She’d largely been silent, with the exception of working through her list once or twice. Again, when he heard this, it was hard to find himself reduced to just one mention in a long list of loved ones and friends.

“You want something to eat?” Bobby asked him.

“No, thanks.”

“Alright, more for us old codgers then,” he chuckled, using the name Dean had branded them with. Then, for a moment, his face grew serious. “Sam, is there any chance that this is a set up? How much do you trust the information that Sarah’s passing you.”

“I trust her with my life, Bobby. She’s saved us before… given the chance, she’ll save us again.”

Bobby seemed to take him at his word, and it made him feel very grown up to have his instincts accepted unconditionally like that. It also felt good to have his entire family here, all working together. His father and uncles were a very reassuring presence. His brother too. But it was hard to watch Dean and Cas be so separate. It was obviously hurting them both, but his attempts to talk to either about the situation had been fruitless and frustrating.

Brandy sat down next to him and took his hand. The two sat together, drawing strength from one another until they heard Bobby call that it was time to load up. It was completely dark now as they walked around to the back of the van and got outfitted for the trip, each assisting the other into Kevlar vests. They took a minute to check the backup knives and weapons hidden among the layers of their clothing and make sure they had everything they needed. When they stepped away, others stepped up to do the same. With walkie talkies also tucked into their coats, they moved to sit in the Impala.

Soon, Dean slid into the front and started up the engine. Once more, Bobby joined them. From his perch in the backseat, Sam watched Cas in the rearview mirror as the man broke down the drone equipment in the red wash of taillights and packed it away into the van. Dean seemed to be watching too, but Sam knew better than to make a comment about it. Once everything was packed up, they were pulled out onto the blacktop and headed back towards town.

“Hang a right up here,” Bobby said to Dean. “We’re takin’ the scenic route.”

A few minutes later, at the crest of a hill, they pulled over on the side of the road. Dean kept the car running as Bobby got out and surveyed the valley beneath them with night vision binoculars. Sam watched his uncle give a thumbs-up gesture to the passengers of the van behind them and then climb back into Dean’s baby.

“Let’s go,” he said firmly.

Dean put the car in gear, and they eased back out onto the road. It was about ten minutes til eleven when Bobby had Dean begin to circle a nondescript block. They continued to do that until 10:55. That’s when they parked on the street in front of an old school building. It was two stories tall and brick with wide-paned windows. The entire grounds were fenced with tall chain link, and there were no trespassing signs every 20 feet or so. Along the street was a sign displaying the credentials of a builder with a huge orange “project pending” sign attached to it.

“This is good,” Dean whispered to Bobby as they got out. “I would never suspect something was going on here.”

“Yep,” Bobby agreed as he hoisted out two bags and handed one to Dean. “I bet the neighbors whine constantly about the site being an eyesore. But it’s probably been sitting like this for years and years. There’s a parking garage two blocks over and that seems to be where the staff all leave their vehicles. The coming and going of people is to be expected with signage indicating a project so all in all, it’s pretty well set up.”

“I can’t believe how close we are to home,” Dean replied, casting a glance behind him and meeting Sam’s eye for a fleeting moment.

Sam gave his brother an affirming nod and then followed behind with Brandy as they walked down the street.  The van had parked behind them and though he didn’t turn around, Sam could feel the presence of his father and the rest of the group at their backs. It wasn’t as windy here as it had been out in the wide open spaces of the corn field, but since the setting of the sun, the temperature had been dropping steadily. Ahead of them, a large gate loomed and it looked very low key, with the exception of a red light that glowed in the darkness. From a few paces away, Sam could see a young man darting across the street. He was clad in a bomber jacket and hat and as he moved up to the gate, he blew warm air into his hands and rubbed them together as he neared the gate.

“S’cuse me,” Bobby said, stepping up to the boy, “you’re not Matthew Dennison are you?”

“Um, yeah?” he answered questioningly.

“I think you know my friend here,” Bobby said smoothly, gesturing for Andy to come forward.

“No, I think you have the wrong guy,” Matthew replied, looking uncomfortable.

“No, you’re the right guy,” Andy replied as he stepped up between Bobby and the young man. “I’m Andy. I’m new, and you’re supposed to show me around tonight, remember?”

Sam watched in awe as Andy worked his magic.

“Oh yeah!” Matthew grinned, suddenly at ease, “I almost forgot. Sorry man. So, you gonna be on the night shift then?”

“Guess so,” Andy responded. “Works for me, I’m not a morning person. By the way, I don’t have my badge yet.”

“No big,” Matthew smiled, sliding his card through the reader, “C’mon, with you as my excuse, we can be a little late. Wanna blaze one before we go in?”

Sam had to chuckle at this kid. Evan had picked the right guy.

“No,” Andy responded, easily redirecting the guy, “I don’t wanna be late on my first night.”

They walked through the gate as it opened for them and as they did, Matthew looked around at the group and then back at Andy and said, “Who are they?”

“Oh them?” he replied, gesturing to their group. “Just ignore them.”

Sam grinned widely as he watched the kid accept Andy’s instructions. They all walked towards the building together. A dozen steps inside the gate, John and the uncles stealthily veered off, each to their predetermined positions on the perimeter. Within a few steps, the black night swallowed them up and Sam returned his attention to the building they were approaching.

Again, Matthew slid his card and this time he also punched in a code to get the door to open for them. As they entered, Sam’s eyes darted around. There were bodies already in motion. Security was running, having come around a large desk in an alcove. Weapons were being drawn, and Sam’s hand twitched toward the pistol tucked in the back of his jeans.

“Hey guys,” Andy cooed in a soft and reassuring tone, “no need to get your panties in a wad. I’m with him.”

Sam almost laughed out loud, watching the security team draw up and come to a standstill. Their hands were on their holsters but they made no move to pull weapons – the squad merely looked at each other with confused expressions.

“I’ll take those,” Andy said softly, indicating their weapons. Sam watched his brother step up next to Andy and assist in collecting their firearms as well as their handheld units, their phones and their little cans of mace.

Within in a few breaths, all the confiscated weapons were stashed in duffel bags, and the security guards were awaiting instructions.

“Cas,” Andy called from the front, “does anything here seem out of place to you?”

“Only that one,” he answered, gesturing to the man on the far right.

Sam watched Lilly move, without hesitation, to the front of the group. She strode up to the guard with confidence, pulling off her glove as she went. The man barely gave her a second glance as she approached him, but when her hand settled on his chest, those eyes returned to her face and locked on her. It was as though he could feel it happening, and perhaps he could. Sam watched the man’s knees buckle, and then he just crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Though the Dark guard had fallen in a heap, none of the others moved. They were all easily pinned down by the power of Andy’s suggestion.

“Hey Bobby,” Dean called into his walkie, “we’ve got the first group for ya. Front entrance, five warm bodies.”

Sam watched as Dean stepped over the dead guard and moved toward the door they’d just come through, opening it for Bobby.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Andy barked to the guards, “Follow that dude. You guys are getting your holiday bonus tonight. That man’s got your checks.”

The group moved like sleepwalkers to follow after Bobby. Despite their zombie-like stature and pace, several wore smiles… they really believed they were about to get a Christmas bonus. Sam looked over at Cas, who was watching Dean hand off the bag of newly acquired weaponry to Bobby. He had to work to hold back a smile as Bobby ordered the men into a small conference room near the entrance and locked them in, positioning himself as a sentinel outside their door.

“Five detainees at front entrance. Tighten perimeter to interior,” Bobby said into his walkie.

“Roger that,” was the response, first from Rufus and then from John.

“Fuck,” Sam couldn’t help but whisper, looking over at Brandy, “this is actually going to work!”

Thanks to Sarah’s funneled information, they now knew that this place had three levels of security for its residents. Low level security was provided on ward A, while moderate security was found on ward B. Ward C was max. Sarah was in A, and Evan was in B.

Following the directions that Dean had scribbled on the back of a pizza box, they moved down the hallway, which was now deserted. They waited for the elevator and took it down as instructed. When they stepped off, the air was different. Sam didn’t need to _know_ that they were underground. He could _feel_ it. The air was here was cooler, heavier. It had a different smell. Immediately he recognized this hallway. He’d been here in his dreams. Not far down this corridor would be the small alcove with an information hub that had looked, in his dreams, like a nurse’s station.

“Ward B is this way,” he said moving forward. He slowed as they began approaching the alcove and waved Andy forward. Peering in as they made to pass by, Sam caught sight of a woman’s figure. Her back was to them as she refilled a coffee cup at the counter. Slowing further to look around, Sam noticed another woman sitting at the counter and typing intently at a computer terminal. No other staff seemed to be nearby. Wordlessly, Sam began waving Cas to the front of the group. Before he was even halfway there, the girl with the coffee cup turned back toward her station and locked eyes on them.

She was petite with thick and wavy hair, so dark it was almost black. Her face was round and thus friendly, but her eyes held a dark quality. If he’d seen this girl in a bar, he might’ve described her as seeming mischievous. Her eyes accented it, and her purposeful smirk reinforced it. But they weren’t in a bar. They were in a top secret government lab. Here, her features pegged her as evil and menacing. As his eyes skimmed over the rest of her, they caught sight of her name tag. Meg.

As she was being looked over, she was looking over them as well. When she spoke, her voice was molasses and her eyebrows lifted as she said, “Well, look who’s back. My Cas. Didja miss me baby? I missed you.” She punctuated her sentence with a wink, and Sam had no choice but to look back towards Cas, wondering what his reply would be. He was stunned to turn and see Cas’ face devoid of color. The guy looked like he may pass out.

“You don’t want to do that,” Andy said firmly. The warning brought Sam’s attention back to Andy, who was looking directly at the other girl… the one who’d been typing furiously a moment ago. Her hand was poised in mid-air, and Sam could see now that she’d been reaching for the alarm. “Fold your hands in your lap like a lady,” Andy told her. Unsmiling, she did as she was told.

He meant to return his attention to the other, to Meg, but as he turned his head he saw Lily looking over at Andy with a wicked grin. It caught his attention for a moment before he realized that they were just sharing an inside joke regarding Andy’s instructions to ‘sit like a lady’. Finally settling his gaze back on Meg, he found Cas moving tentatively closer to her as she starred daggers at him. Despite his pallid appearance, he spoke to her in a deep and confident voice.

“You loved to touch me, didn’t you? You knew it made me feel cold and wretched inside. It was horrible for me. But still you did it, every chance you got.”

“Aw, c’mon sugar,” she purred at him. “You can’t blame a girl for havin’ a little fun, can you?”

“Enough,” Dean interrupted from behind him. Sam had to step to the side as his brother pushed past him. He clearly intended to put an end to the dialog between Meg and Cas. “Lily,” he commanded, “do what needs to be done.”

Meg obviously had no idea what was in store for her, but she soon found out. It was good to watch Cas as Meg’s smile faded and her knees gave out. When she flopped to the floor at Cas’ feet, a smile of satisfaction broke over his face, and he gave Lily a nod.

“Thank you,” he told her.

“What about her?” Lily replied, nodding towards the girl sitting down.

“Deep Dark,” Cas spat, stepping backward to be amid the group instead out in front.

Sam watched long enough to see the dark-haired beauty tumble from her chair at Lily’s hand. Her cold, dead eyes looked up toward the ceiling and her name tag read, “Ruby.” His mind lit on this piece of information. She’d been part of the instructions that Sarah had sent them. Her words had been something along the lines of “Ruby for access.”

Figuring this woman probably had more security clearance than the stoner they’d come in with, he leaned down and plucked the lanyard from her neck… the one that had her ID badge and keys on it. He slung it around his own neck and turned away. There was no point in lingering here. The area was full of information, some of which may be helpful. But now it was unguarded information, and they could come back for it later. With a mind on getting to the prisoners first, Sam stepped away from the computers and filing cabinets.  As he turned to leave the scene though, Cas stepped up to him.

It was peculiar the way the man shouldered up to him and whispered, but his words were so chilling that Sam could understand why Cas wouldn’t want the group to hear.

“Sam,” he said, “we need more than Ruby’s badge.”

“What do we need?” he asked, already dreading the answer.

“Her eyes.”

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“I’ll help you carry her if you don’t want to cut them out, it’s probably better to protect their integrity for the scanner anyway.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, recovering. “Yeah, let’s… you get her legs, okay?”

From behind him, Sam could hear the group whispering, probably wondering what was happening. “Will the scanner even work if she’s dead?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“How do you…”

“Don’t ask unless you want me to answer,” Cas cautioned him.

Sam nodded as he bent to help pick up Ruby’s crumpled body from the floor. As they began to lift, Dean stepped up. By the look on his face, Sam could see that he knew exactly what was happening.

“I got this, Sammy,” he said. It was a dismissal, but there was no point in arguing. Dean was obviously up for the task, and Sam knew that he really wasn’t. He stepped out of the way, tugging Ruby’s lanyard from his neck and handing it to his brother. Returning to the group, he watched his big brother take his place in hauling the body.

Brandy moved to his side and rested her arm on his shoulder in reassurance while Sam watched Dean and Cas lift the corpse. The two each took a limp arm over their shoulder which suspended the woman’s weight between them. This positioning appeared to allow access to their machine guns, which were still hanging from straps over their shoulders. But, they’d undoubtedly be slower with the use of their guns as they drug this woman down the hall. Sam knew he’d better move up and take point, have a weapon at the ready.

He left the comfort of Brandy’s side and nodded to his brother as he moved out in front, grasping his gun between two sweaty palms. Dean didn’t argue. At least the risk of being out in front was offset by the benefit of not having to watch a dead woman being dragged down the hall. Behind them, Andy and the girls followed with Matthew, who seemed to have outlived his usefulness. They crept down the hall as quickly and quietly as they could, but they were hardly stealth.

Sarah was nearby, he could practically feel it, and it hurt not to go straight to her. But Sam knew their orders were to retrieve Evan first. In fact, they were meant to try and get to him within a minute. It had easily been three or four since they’d entered the building. They needed Evan first – to read minds and let them know if there was a silent alarm going off somewhere, among other things.

At the end of the hall, they arrived at the door with a huge letter B painted on the wall next to it. Sam watched as Cas reached out and took the badge from Dean to slide it through the reader. Then he grasped Ruby roughly by the hair and held her face up to the scanner. With access granted, the door to ward B clunked and opened.

In front of them was a very short hall with no windows or doors, and a ninety degree turn ahead. The group pressed forward but as they rounded the corner, an explosion of gunfire erupted around them.

Instinctively, Sam dropped to the floor and scurried backwards, trying to get back around the corner for cover. There was no way to back up though, because behind him the rest of the group had also dropped to the ground. A cloud of dust enveloped them, the bullets having pummeled into cinderblock walls. The group was a tangle of arms and legs and as they struggled to sort themselves out, cement fragments rained down around them and short blasts of ear-splitting gunfire seemed to rattle the building. It wasn’t just noisy, the vibration of it was practically painful to the ear.

With no protection to be found, Sam opted for returning fire. He tugged his assault rifle into position and prepared to lay down a wide arc of cover fire to protect his team as they sorted themselves out behind him. He pressed his finger down and worked to control the weapon as it shook violently in his hands. His elbows rattled against the hard floor and his arm burned with the effort of steadying the weapon. It was a battle to even keep his eyes open against the grit in the air. Debris pelted their bodies in the chaos as he continued blindly firing. He’d had relatively little training with this kind of rifle and found himself clumsy with it.

“Hold your fire,” Andy shouted over the chaos.

Sam could see nothing but a cloud of dust and it swirled around them disconcertingly. His knees and elbows were abused and sore. For some reason, his arm hurt like a mother fucker. His breaths were shallow and rapid and he worked to control them in the vacuum of silence that followed the exchange of fire.

No one moved a muscle. Both sides had been silenced by Andy’s command and everyone waited, unmoving. Sam’s ears were ringing in the ominous quiet and as the dust started to settle, he began to make out the vague from of security guards about ten yards down the hall. The question as to whether a silent alarm had been tripped was now answered. Yes, they were made.

The half dozen guards may have been dressed in the same standard garb as an average mall security worker, but these men were obviously highly trained. They were strategic, having fallen into a military formation to defend their stronghold from intruders. Even now, under Andy’s control, their fingers weren’t far from the triggers. Their postures were stiff as they looked between one another discreetly and with curiosity as they awaited their next order. Two were down, having sustained injury from the bursts of fire that Sam had dispensed. His jaw dropped as he realized that he was responsible for the blood that was now spreading out on the white tile floor. His gun. His trigger. So much blood. His stomach rolled.

“Stand down,” Andy said forcefully. Slowly the men relaxed from their formation. They looked a bit shell-shocked, glancing down at their wounded and stepping toward them, but still keeping their attention on Andy. “Nobody move,” he said firmly. Then he looked around the members of his own group. “Cas,” he said, “anybody we need to worry about?”

“None of them,” Cas answered.

“Alright,” Andy said to the uniformed men, “see to your wounded.”

Sam watched as four men bent to assess the two who were bleeding. He wanted to get to his feet now that the tense standoff was over. But movement was difficult. Standing up was an extreme effort that took all of his concentration and physical strength. The sharp reality of moments ago was now dull, blurry and slipping farther away.

It was only when Brandy spoke to him and he tried to acknowledge her that he realized something was wrong. Sound was morphing strangely in his ears, and when he turned to look at her, his vision swam in a sickening way and darkened at the edges. He swayed awkwardly on his feet and made to put his hand out and brace himself against the wall. Time had seemed to slow down for a moment there – but when his muscles contracted to lift his arm, fire shot through it and time seemed to snap back like a rubber band. Suddenly the movements of everyone around him were jerky as they executed on fast forward to catch him up with reality. His stomach heaved and vomit rolled up the back of his throat. With a shiver of disgust he bent forward and opened his mouth, spewing puke onto the floor at his feet. Before he was even finished, he was realizing how weak his knees were. _What is happening to me_?

Brandy was talking to him, speaking urgently. He couldn’t focus on her words over the pain coursing through his body, but he did belatedly notice that she was covered in blood. It was all over her hands and her shirt. She was yelling something. Then Dean stepped into view. His brother’s brow was furrowed as he leaned in. With assistance from Dean and Brandy, Sam managed to put his back to the wall and slide down. He come to rest on his haunches with his legs sprawled out in front of him. At least his weak knees were resting. Dean was ripping his sleeve and rolling it back. Watching his big brother's lips move, Sam was finally able to make the connection to Dean’s words over the roaring in his ears and understand them.

“It’s nothing,” Dean was saying, “…just grazed you. This scar’s gonna get you laid, Sammy boy…”

It was only then that Sam began to understand what had happened. He’d been shot. He’d taken a bullet during the shoot out and not even noticed it. Chaos reigned around him, but focusing on Dean kept him calm enough to turn his eyes toward his own bicep. His shirt was soaked in blood, but Dean was using the shreds of his torn sleeve to fashion a makeshift bandage around it. His entire arm felt like it was on fire and with every beat of his heart, a throb pulsed out from the ragged wound and spread into the rest of his body. The pain was relentless.

“Too tight,” he managed to croak out as Dean worked on the knots.

“The fuck it is,” Dean retorted. “Gotta keep the blood in, Sammy.”

“Hurts so bad…” he groaned. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears… high pitched and squeaky.

“I know, I know,” placated his brother. “But Sarah’s waitin’ for ya. We ain't got time to stop. Can you get up?”

“Sarah?” he asked, only now remembering how desperate he’d been to rescue her.

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean said as he buttressed his shoulder under Sam’s armpit and began to lift, “Give it all ya got. Sarah’s waitin’ for ya.”

The weight of his body on his knees was too much, and they buckled under him. But Dean lent him the strength he needed to stand, putting his own weight behind the action. Once he was fully on his feet, Dean wrapped an arm around him and coached him into taking a step. He did it. He took a step. Then another, and another.

“That’s my boy,” Dean praised.

As they moved forward, they passed the flurry of activity and moved a few paces down the hall. As they passed by the guards, Sam could see several of the uniformed men working to deliver first aid to a fallen comrade that was bleeding from the head and clearly wasn’t going to make it. Beside that man, another lay motionless on the floor, already gone.

Andy and the girls appeared to be helping, but closer inspection found Lily taking weapons and phones from the men as they paid no attention. Brandy had moved to Lily’s side and opened their weapons duffel – the two were working to shove in all the newly procured items. Their group had far more weapons than they would ever need at this point, but none could be left in the hands of their enemy either.

For Sam, the tipsy feeling of unreliable limbs and mind was fading now. His brain was coming back online… working through the pain. He found himself moving of his own volition and turned his attention forward to watch where he was going.

“I think I got this,” he said to Dean. He half expected Dean to argue, but he didn’t. He gave Sam a solitary nod and extricated his hands. Turning back to Andy, Dean asked what he needed.

“Zip ties,” was Andy’s answer.

Sam paused and leaned against the wall. As he rested there, he worked to recover his breathing and fully clear his head. He was tingly now, adrenaline carrying away his nausea and giving him so much energy that he was shaking with it. A few feet away, Dean was ripping open another package of zip ties. With help from Andy and the girls, his brother managed to get each soldier-in-disguise completely bound by both wrists and ankles. Eyes drifting back towards the place where he’d been shot, Sam noticed another body on the ground. It was Matthew. He was face down on the floor in a pool of blood with his limbs sprawled in an unnatural way. The poor kid had likely been the last to drop to the ground when gunfire had erupted, not having spent weeks training like their group had.

Coming to stand next to him, Dean pulled out his walkie and radioed for assistance. Sam felt a tear track down his cheek as he heard a crackly version of his father’s voice answer. He had no idea who he was even crying for. But he heard his father loud and clear as he instructed them to keep moving and that he and Rufus would come to extract the prisoners they’d taken in this hall. Not a minute later they were all moving again.

Deep down, Sam knew having a perimeter set up behind them was indispensable. They needed to be able to focus on moving forward, but that would be impossible if they didn’t have capable men watching their backs and guarding the prisoners they’d taken. Without his father and uncles protecting them and ensuring they had a way out, their group would spend all their time looking over their shoulders and waiting for the other shoe to drop. However, despite his understanding of things, Sam couldn’t help wishing his father was with them now; a strong presence that he could lean on.

John’s rough and domineering tone that normally made Sam want to scream, was suddenly an enviable source of strength. It was unnerving to find himself wishing for the father he was accustomed to detesting. But here, in the underground lair of a very real enemy, Sam had to finally acknowledge that his father had truly been a man on a mission, protecting his boys from an unseen evil adversary. He loved them and protected them the best way he knew how, always had. The acceptance of John Winchester forced a lump up into Sam’s throat that kept him from swallowing and put an ache in his chest to accompany the many other pains we was bearing at the moment.

The group prowled forward then, vigilant for anything moving ahead. They checked each door as they moved past it. Most were steel security doors with a small safety glass window in the center. Some of the rooms looked like utilitarian bedrooms while some looked like hospital waiting rooms and still others looked like classrooms or storage areas. Almost all were empty until they reached the far end of the hall. Here they found a door that was different from the others because it had a nameplate on the outside. There was also a plastic bin on the door like the kind that physicians have mounted to the walls outside their exam rooms to hold medical charts. There was a black binder in the bin. Both the binder and the door were labeled with the letters BAZ. Peering in, they saw a young man pacing back and forth in his tiny room. He didn’t look up at them.

“Keep moving,” Dean said firmly. “We can always come back for him later.”

The group agreed and continued silent progress down the hall. When Sam looked over at Dean, he realized his brother and Cas were still dragging Ruby’s body with them. She had a bullet wound now, near her shoulder. A bit of blood was oozing out and spreading into a red circle on her cotton shirt. Both men had a look of determination on their faces as they carried her and Sam found himself glad that if his father couldn’t be here with him, these were the men who were. Dean may not have always been exactly what he needed, but he was devoted to Sam and fiercely protective of him. He’d put his life on the line for his baby brother many times, and Sam found himself grateful beyond measure for the sturdy presence Dean had always been in his life.

It had been nice for a while, knowing his brother was happy with Cas. But now, something had broken between them. Even now, in the middle of all this, the two kept a careful distance between them. They managed to work as a team but still made sure not to look at each other at the same time. It was disturbing to watch. Turning to face forward again as he staggered along, Sam idly wondered if the two would ever bridge the gap that seemed to have sprung up between them.

The next room was labeled BIF. They didn’t have to peek in through the window. With his face pressed eagerly to the glass, Evan was waiting for them.

Sam leaned back on the wall again, relieved to be granted some time to rest while his brother and Cas positioned Ruby’s lifeless corpse near the door to gain access. When it opened, Evan didn’t even blink. He shoved past everyone and surged into Brandy’s waiting arms. The two collapsed onto the floor in a heap, both crying and kissing and exchanging breathy fragments of sentences as they embraced. Sam smiled at them as he leaned against the wall and waited. His body seemed to sense that it was time to rally, and he felt a renewed determination to press on. It was his turn now.

“Sarah,” he whispered to his brother.

“That’s right, Sammy,” Dean answered, dropping a hand to his shoulder. “Let’s go get her.”

Barking orders to the group, Dean managed to rouse the reunited lovers to their feet and get everyone moving. The others took turns stepping up to Evan as they moved out, patting his back or clapping his shoulder in a show of solidarity and affection. When Sam saw his brother and Cas bending to pick Ruby back up off the floor, he pushed himself off the wall and began walking, joining his friends as they doubled back on their route and headed for ward A. Now that he was injured, Lily had pushed out ahead to take point with Andy on her heels. Sam was amazed how quickly his body had learned to function through the pain. It wasn’t gone. In fact, it permeated every cell of his body. But somehow, his mind had managed to push the pain to the back and focus on doing what needed done in the here and now.

As they marched along Sam gradually increased his pace until he was walking near the front of the group. Bits and pieces of conversation reached his ears as his team exchanged information with Evan. They explained to him where they’d been so far, where they were headed now, how many prisoners they’d taken and that on the floor above was a conference room full of prisoners being guarded by ex-FBI field agents who were protecting their perimeter and ensuring their escape.

By the time they’d returned to the site of the shootout, all the prisoners were gone and only the dead bodies remained, abandoned amid pools and streaks of blood that stretched wall to wall.

“Poor Matthew,” Evan breathed as the group made its way past. “I was hoping he’d make it.”

Once more Sam felt pity for the kid as he stepped over him. They were cautious coming around the blind corner and then once again, Ruby opened the door for them so that they could leave ward B.

As he watched Dean and Cas holding her lifeless body up to the retinal scanner, Evan muttered, “I won’t miss that conniving bitch.”

She was used again to access ward A. Once inside, they moved cautiously into a hall that looked strikingly similar to the one in B ward. It even had the same blind corner. They approached it slowly and then came to a complete stop. Evan stepped to the front and held up a finger. The universal sign for “give me a sec.” All were silent as they waited. Five seconds… ten.

“There’s six,” Evan whispered, “heavily armed, and they know we’re coming. They’ve been watching on monitors as you’ve progressed, and they’ve made a call. They’re determined to take us down.”

“They called the cops?” whispered Brandy.

“No, definitely not,” he answered. “They made the worst call they could make. They’ve called Alistair.”

“What is his function?” Dean asked as he stepped forward. “I’ve heard that name before.”

Sam remembered it too… Sarah had told them about him, recalling her chilling exchange as he’d pressed a cold hand to her forehead and then agreed to buy her.

Answering Dean’s question in a whisper, Evan said simply, “He’s evil incarnate. If this place belongs to anyone, it belongs to him. Even Crowley answers to him.”

“Alright then,” Dean said resolutely, “One thing at a time. We’re here for Sarah, and she’s on the other side of all those guns.”

Sam watched Andy step forward then and exchange a look with Evan, who gave him a nod.

“Alright,” Andy called out loudly, addressing the highly trained soldiers who waited for them around the corner dressed as ordinary security guards. “You guys were ten seconds faster that the B team. Thank you very much for your participation in this drill. Holster your weapons and prepare for debriefing.”

To Sam’s amazement, he heard the sounds of weapon safetys clicking into place followed by men moving around and talking amongst themselves. Once more, he found himself grinning at the absurdity of what they were getting away with and his chest swelled with pride.

Evan stood by watching closely and, Sam assumed, reading the minds of all to be sure he had advance notice of anything unexpected. Andy continued to monologue as if he were an instructor at a training facility while Lily and Brandy moved around the men, tightening zip ties around their wrists and ankles.

When the guards were completely incapacitated, Dean radioed the geezers for backup. Sam watched Andy move to Cas’ side and ask if any were darks. With Cas shaking his head no, Dean and Cas hoisted Ruby back up and began to walk down the hall. Sam could not contain himself. He walked faster with each step, grew stronger with every stride, felt excitement surging through his veins as he moved past plain steel doors and closer to those with name plates adorning the outsides.

Coming to a stop at the one marked ADA, he moved to the window and looked in. She was there, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at her knees. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Dean. His brother tipped his head to the side, indicating that Sam needed to move. He did so immediately, knowing he had to make room so Ruby could be positioned in front of the retinal scanner. His blood was churning as he waited, and his heart skipped a beat when the door clunked and came open.

 

 

 

 

 

Dean was elated as he watched his brother rush into Sarah’s little room. She’d looked up when her door came open and appeared to do a double take when she saw Sam loping toward her. Her face betrayed her then, making it known that she’d not been certain he’d actually come for her. She rose to meet him though, and flung her arms around his neck as he bent down to wrap his around her waist.

They sank to the floor as they embraced, both clinging to each other as they hugged, exchanging endearments and promises between kisses. Much like when Brandy and Evan had been reunited, the group was spellbound. Dean, however, found his eyes wandering over to Cas. He’d become accustomed to doing that lately, sneaking glances at Cas when he thought it wouldn’t be noticed.

The man seemed every bit as enthralled with Sarah and Sam’s reunion as the rest of the group. But when those blue eyes flashed to him, it surprised Dean. He felt blush creep to his cheeks at having been caught staring like that. But Cas didn’t look away this time.

His eyes were moist with tears that didn’t fall as he said, “I never thought we’d make it this far.”

Dean could think of nothing to do but to nod. He was surprised to hear Cas concede that he’d been expecting defeat. With that sentiment in mind, Dean’s brain clicked into gear.  “We better get moving,” he said firmly. “Don’t wanna blow it now.”

Cas nodded and bent with him to pick up Ruby.

“Tired of dragging this wench around,” he joked as they began to move. The rest of the group followed behind them, chattering quietly but with excitement. The liberation of both Evan and Sarah had renewed the group’s vigor, and Dean could feel the energy of it as they moved to exit this ward.

“We need to get to C,” Evan barked, his voice rising above the others as he sought to redirect their attention to strategical thinking. “Alistair knows we’re here. He’s probably on his way right now. When he gets here, he’ll head straight for LUC and MIC so he can use them against us.”

Remembering what Cas had told him about LUC and MIC, Dean’s mind pushed into overdrive. LUC was a liar… but everyone was powerless against his suggestion. Whatever he said was believed, no matter how ludicrous. The play was obvious – Alistair would use LUC to turn their group on one another. Divide and conquer. And MIC, the man had physical strength that could not be matched. Divided, their group would fall. Evan was right. They had to beat Alistair to ward C or it would be the end of them.

Increasing their pace as he spoke, Dean addressed Evan, “What’s our plan when we get there?”

“Seek alliances,” he replied confidently, “and take no prisoners.”

“Prisoners?”

“That’s right. We can’t hog-tie these guys and leave them if they won’t join us. I hate to even say it,” Evan added morosely, “but this is a join or die endeavor.”

Dean could see Evan was right. He was resolute as he increased his pace, pressing the group to move faster. But even as he sped up, Cas was lagging behind. With Ruby’s body spread between them, it was holding Dean back. Turning to look Cas in the face, Dean was stunned by what he saw. The man had gone pasty white and his face dripped with fear.

“What?” he asked, wondering what danger his eyes were missing. To Dean this was just an empty hall.

Cas’ eyes were fixated on a door they were approaching and as they neared it, the man slunk backward and brought them to a halt. Dean glanced at the group as they came to a stop with him. Sam had his good arm around Sarah, and he was whispering to her. But she was also pale as a sheet and seemed every bit as terrified as Cas was. Ruby’s body was wrenched from his hands as Cas stepped away.

Dean watched with his mouth agape as the strongest and most deadly man he’d ever met shrank backward and away from him, retreating and sinking helplessly to the floor. Dean looked from Andy to Sam to Evan. “What is it?” he demanded, frustrated with the delay.

“Naomi’s office,” Evan answered. “The worst place I’ve ever been.”

Dean immediately put hands to his rifle and turned his attention to the door. Sweeping from left to right with it as he entered, he cleared the room. “It’s empty,” he told them all when he emerged again. But his words seemed to provide no relief.

“Pass on the other side,” Evan directed, encouraging Sarah and Cas to give a wide berth to the place of their torture. Dean watched as Sam helped Sarah move past the door and then turned his eyes back to Cas. He looked scared and uncertain; unwilling to even move.

“C’mon,” he said, reaching for the man’s hand. “C’mon, Cas, you’ve got this.”

His friend deliberated for a short moment. Dean relaxed minutely when he felt Cas take hold of his hand, but he didn’t break eye contact.

“This is your past,” he said firmly. “Walk with us to your future.”

“Future?” he blinked, his eyes wide and filled with terror.

“Yeah, man,” Dean beseeched softly, “The future. The one where you never have to come back here. The one where we’ve blown this place to kingdom come, and you’re free. That’s where I’m headed. Come with me.”

“There’s no hope,” he said, still hanging on to Dean’s hand. “There never was. They will win. They always win. No matter what happens… I always end up here.”

“Not this time,” Dean said firmly, realizing he meant it. “This time’s different Cas. You have all of us with you. You’re not alone.”

Again, Cas’ large eyes hovered on Dean’s. Holding the gaze, Dean sought to encourage. “They wanted you for a reason, Cas. Because you can do things they can’t. All of you. They wanted you guys because you’re powerful. And, you’re even stronger when you’re together. If there was ever a time to have hope, Cas, it’s now. You wanna be free?”

Cerulean eyes blinked once. Twice. The hand in his twitched. Dean bent his knees and locked his spine, working to pull Cas to his feet.

“How ‘bout it Cas,” he asked again. “You wanna be free?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly. “Free.”

“That’s it,” coaxed Dean, giving Cas’ hand a gentle tug and pulling him forward. “C’mon, buddy.”

Watching Cas come around as he started moving was amazing. Dean hadn’t even realized how dead Cas’ features had been lately until a beatific smile spread over his face. Now, presented with the kind of smile his heart had been aching for, Dean realized he’d not seen it since the day Sarah was taken.

The day Cas had rejected him.

The day his friend had lost all hope.

It all made so much sense.

Dean could see everything more clearly now. Every dark day since Sarah had been taken, Cas had been a shell of a man. But the promise of attainable freedom had lit him up from the inside. He had hope again. His eyes were electric with it as Cas embraced the very real possibility of victory for the first time. He surged forward and Dean felt himself bulldozed backward and flattened against the wall. Cas was pressing into him and crushing their lips together with a strength that Dean had rarely felt, but always sensed. A flood of relief washed over him as Cas ravaged his mouth and gripped him tightly, owning him in a way that no one else ever had or ever would.

When Sam cleared his throat, it brought Dean back to reality. He and Cas broke apart with a soft chuckle, remembering they had an audience. His man was still smiling at him as they bent down to pick up Ruby together. And yes, Cas was his again. The words didn’t even need to be said. Dean could see it in those expressive eyes and feel it in his heart.

Putting Naomi’s office behind them, the two walked side by side with their group, Ruby hanging in between. It was it was good, so good, to finally have the real Cas back.

 


	10. Kingdom Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, MoniJune, for joining me in this project. It's a far better piece for having been through your hands. (Also, thanks for never even mentioning how irritating it must be that I make changes after you edit and put a bunch more frick-ups into the text.) You're bad ass woman! BAD. ASS.

Putting Naomi’s office behind them, Dean and Cas moved farther down the corridor with their friends. Turning the corner at the far end of the hall, Dean felt a hesitation from Cas. It was subtle, but it was there in the way that Ruby’s body weight seemed shift and pull at his shoulder. Glancing over at Cas, he saw his friend’s eyes reflect fear. But, he kept moving forward. Dean gave a nod of acknowledgment to his friend, wanting to commend his bravery. Keeping vigilant, Dean returned his attention forward. Ahead loomed a short hall and at the dead end was a large letter C painted on the wall. It hovered there, right next to the most secure looking door they’d seen yet.

This door, unlike the others, had a security outpost next to it. The area was empty, though, and the strangeness of that settled uncomfortably in Dean’s bones as they neared it. Beyond the vacant station sat the door to enter the ward. It was wider than the other doors they’d passed through, a double rather than a single. The vacuum of quiet was disturbing, and Dean could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. This time, it was he who hesitated. Slowing his pace as he moved past the security station, he peered behind it. There were multiple screens, divided into squares, each showing a different room or hall. Nothing moved on any of them, though in some, the blood and debris left in their wake was visible.

The neighboring wall was clearly home to the firearms, but all were in use. Nothing remained but empty cradles that would normally hold the weight of deadly weapons.

“What are we waiting for?” whispered Sam.

Dean looked over at his brother and said, “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Did you expect anything to feel right?”

Understanding the sentiment, Dean gave his brother a shrug. One last glance around the area revealed nothing noteworthy, so he began moving towards the door with Cas by his side. The tension in the group was thick. Their breathing was pronounced, audible, as they came to a stop in front of the retinal scanner. Convinced that an ambush of some kind was imminent, Dean motioned to Sammy to watch their backs.

Sam and Evan both acknowledged his silent direction and turned their backs to the group, training their weapons on the empty hall behind them as the rest of the group faced forward and prepared to move forward. These doors didn’t clunk open like the other doors they’d accessed. They slid open smoothly and with only a whisper of sound. The group advanced cautiously. Cas and Dean both pivoted, Ruby still strung between them, and stepped up to enter C ward.

A strange sensation passed over Dean’s skin as he crossed the threshold. It was barely noticeable, just the slightest change in airflow. But with his body already tense, the change brought a feeling of creeping dread with it. He didn’t dare look at Cas; he didn’t want his friend to see his frayed nerves and start second guessing things. The room they stepped into wasn’t very big – only about ten feet square.

Everything was either white or stainless steel. Ahead was another set of double doors – exactly the same as those they’d just passed through. Along the wall to their left were several small doors that looked like cupboards and had no locks. By the time they were all in, the room was crowded. Dean turned his head towards movement and saw Lily stepping up to open one of the cupboard doors so she could peer inside.

“It’s just storage,” she whispered softly.

“We all need one of those,” Evan said softly, gesturing towards the opposite wall.

Following Evan’s pointed finger, Dean saw a row of gas masks hanging there. As he took in his surroundings, Dean realized that this area between doors was just a vestibule. Workers used the area as a clean room – stowing belongings in the cupboards and then putting on specific clothing and equipment before actually entering the ward. He shot a questioning glance back at Evan when he realized that Evan was telling him they needed to put on the gas masks.

“It’s a safety protocol,” Evan whispered. “If any of the prisoners here breach containment and make it this far, security just gasses the entire ward from that desk we just passed. The entire place is sealed up tight. Anyone inside will die. If Alistair comes in behind us, he won’t hesitate.”

Dean nodded acknowledgement as he and Cas wordlessly lowered Ruby’s body to the ground and moved towards the masks.

“They use negative air pressure in the ward,” Evan added as he pulled the straps into place around his neck, “that way nothing leaks out to kill the rest of the facility. This place is ducted separately from the rest of the building.”

“Good to know,” Dean whispered, understanding Evan’s carefully chosen way of divulging the backup exit plan. Still, he didn’t look over at Cas as his fingers began adjusting the straps of a mask to fit him. He tugged it on and settled the plastic over his face securely. As he did, he realized that the negative pressure was the unsettling sensation of airflow that he’d felt when they’d entered this space.

Behind them, the door had long swished shut again. The group was quick but somber as they donned their gear.

“Wait,” said Lily, poised with her mask not yet in place. “We can just do it.”

Everyone looked at her, uncertain what she meant.

“We can just hit the button. Release the gas and run. Head back to the van. Without the use of MIC and LUC, Alistair is just another dude to shoot if we come across him. We’ll be out of here in two minutes… no losses.”

Dean could see the value in her suggestion. They had no idea what would happen if they walked out into ward C. For all they knew, Alistair was in there now. He could be waiting for them around the next corner. Their best shot at getting everyone out alive was to do it. Push the button. Gas everyone on the ward and run. It was a coward's plan. But he who runs away today lives to fight another day. For a moment, Dean considered it. So did everyone else.

“We can’t,” Sam whispered, breaking the tension. “We just can’t. There’s people in there. Prisoners. They’ve been waiting for rescue, praying for it. We’re their only hope. We have to save them, Dean, we have to.”

Sam’s words brought a slow and begrudging agreement from the group. Everyone resumed locking their face masks into place. Dean was full of pride as he looked at his brother. He reached out and put his hand on Sammy’s shoulder. His whispered words were lost in his mask when he spoke, but Sam’s eyes acknowledged them. “I’m proud of you,” he’d said. Sam’s soft answering smile warmed his heart and with that as his only encouragement, Dean tore his eyes from his brother and forced them forward. Brandy was standing with her weapon ready and her hand poised over the button to open the next set of doors and her eyes rested on Dean, waiting for his signal. He bent with Cas to pick up Ruby and then pulled his weapon into firing position the best he could. With his heart pounding, he gave Brandy the nod.

Even the soft swish of the doors sliding open seemed loud in the deep silence. Sam stepped forward and moved through the door in point position, Sarah and Lily flanking him. Andy went next, and then Brandy followed Dean and Cas. Glancing behind him, Dean saw her effectively guarding their rear.

Ward C wasn’t a long hall like the other wards had been. As the group advanced, they found themselves at another security alcove. It too was vacant and empty of firearms. The security monitoring screens were all dark – no feed coming through. Not a good sign.

There was a door behind the security alcove and a hall branching off in each direction. Dean watched as his brother approached the door, flanked by Sarah and Andy. Lily stood a few paces behind, tensed and ready to move in any direction. It wasn’t easy watching little Sammy turn the doorknob and then kick the door open. It was even harder to watch him leap forward into the space and swing his gun from left to right as he cleared the room with Sarah and Andy behind him.

But when he returned a moment later, signaling that there was nothing in the room, Dean again felt pride in his baby brother. With two identical hallways to choose from, the group seemed uncertain which way to go. Dean chuckled behind his mask as his brother stepped up to him with his fist out, ready to do rock-paper-scissors. He played along though, losing as usual.

Following Sam’s victorious head tip to the left, the group filed in behind him and began exploring the corridor. The first door was only a supply closet and the second was an empty staff bathroom. Once those were behind them, the group found themselves at a blind corner. As before, they waited silently while Evan moved near to the front and stood quietly, searching with his gift to see if he could get a read on the minds of anyone who may be lurking around that corner.

They only waited about 30 seconds before getting the all-clear sign. Moving around the corner and into another short hall, Dean finally found the will to look over at Cas. He was stoic, movements methodical. He’d didn’t look back at Dean, though Dean could sense that his friend felt him looking.

There was only one door in this corridor and as they approached it, the group slowed. When they came to a stop, the group arranged themselves defensively with two guns pointed back behind them and two pointed ahead. Sam ventured carefully to the small window in the door and Sarah hovered protectively near him. Dean and Cas stood with Ruby, waiting. It was frustrating to have to have their voices muffled by the mask they wore and their vision obscured even slightly.

“Dean,” Sam said without turning to him, “you’re not gonna believe this.”

He and Cas eased Ruby to the floor, and Dean stepped up to his brother’s side.

“That isn’t…”

“I’m pretty sure it is,” replied his brother. “It’s Max.”

 

 

 

Peering through both the visor over his face and the safety glass on the door, Dean had to squint to see into the darkened room. It looked much like a hospital room and the figure in the bed was clearly tied down. But he was sleeping soundly.

Dean was leaning in and trying to get a better look when Sarah’s voice from over his shoulder startled him.

“Who’s Max?” she asked.

“A kid I dreamt of once,” Sam told her, “He was telekinetic. We’ve mentioned him before… we actually called him… back when we called Andy and the others.”

“He didn’t wanna join,” Dean cut in, shortening the conversation.

“Bet he’s changed his mind now,” answered Sam. “He could be a powerful ally.”

“Cas,” Dean called, “c’mere.”

When his friend shouldered up to the window, Dean asked, “What do ya make of that?”

“I can’t tell,” he answered apologetically. “I’m going to have to get closer.”

Cas turned away from them then, giving Dean’s arm a reassuring pat as he did. Dean followed his man’s lead and bent to retrieve Ruby. They sidled up to the door under the protective stance of their friends, swiped her card and held her face to the scanner.

“Lily,” he said as Cas dropped the body and prepared to enter Max’s room, “Go with him.”

She nodded as they traded places, him standing guard in the hall while she accompanied Cas into Max’s room to protect him. It was irritating to have to admit that someone else was better suited to protect Cas than he was. But what mattered more than his pride was the safety of his friend.

He kept his eyes vigilant on the hall while his ears remained fully focused on the dark room behind him. Once the door had opened, a gentle and constant beeping had spilled out into the hall. Other than that, it was silent for a few beats… about long enough for him to be tempted to look.

“Damn,” he heard Sarah whisper from behind him.

Turning, only for a quick glance, Dean saw Lily and Cas coming back out of the room alone.

“He was a dark?” Dean questioned, having already assumed to know.

“Yes, Dean,” answered Cas, tipping his head to indicate they should pick up Ruby and get moving.

“Did she do it?” he asked, wondering if Lily had put her heart stopping hand on Max.

“Yes.”

“It’s better that way,” Dean muttered softly, preferring Max be touched by Lily than garroted by Cas. “He was just a kid, and he had a hard life. Nobody ever cared for him – not even his own parents.”

“Well,” said Lily calmly, clearly trying to put his mind at ease, “Sometimes the best we can hope for is to die in our sleep.”

No one spoke as they continued down the hall. Before turning right again at the approaching corner, Evan did his thing and gave them the “all clear” signal to forge ahead once he’d verified there was no one waiting for them. The layout of the ward was making sense now. It was a giant square with a hall on the perimeter and rooms on the inside. They would make nothing but right turns as they swept this area and then find themselves back at the empty security station they’d been facing when they entered.

Time seemed to be creeping. His logical mind knew that they’d only been on the ward for a few minutes, but it felt like half an hour or more. With each step, Dean felt their time running out. How much longer could they expect to explore without interference?

As they stepped up to the next door, everyone fell into the same formation as last time. Dean waited with Cas to see if they’d be opening this door. Sam stepped up to it, shadowed by his girl. Unlike the doors on the other wards, these did not have names on them or charts nearby. The area looked less like a hospital or school and far more like a military prison.

“What do you think?” Sam asked Sarah.

“Let Evan have a look,” she answered, “see what he can make of it.”

“I don’t need to look,” answered Evan, still guarding the hall. “That’s LUC.”

“How can you tell?” Dean asked him, “Are you reading his mind?”

“No. Look.”

Dean followed the gesture that Evan made with his chin and his eyes landed on what looked to be a supply cart sitting near the door. As he looked closer, he saw what appeared to be earmuffs or headphones. They were different from anything he’d seen before, oversized and lying tangled in an octopus of bands and straps. He stepped closer, trying to get a better look.

“They’re headphones,” explained Evan, “sound cancelling. Good ones. If you hear him, you’re subject to his suggestion. But with those on, you can’t hear much outside noise and they play tones in your ear specifically designed to keep the wearer’s attention. As an additional precaution, the staff are trained to sing Happy Birthday in their head as they move around his room, even with the headphones on. It keeps their minds occupied and less susceptible.”

“He’s a dark,” Cas said softly from behind them.

“You’ve trained with him,” Dean said, turning to face his friend, “in the environment. You told me about it.”

“Yes,” replied Cas, not looking him the eye, “When I saw you in the environment and was tasked with killing you… it was Luc. I know that now. He told me he was you, and I believed him. It’s impossible not to believe him when he lies. But that’s why you weren’t bright, and I felt no warmth from you – because it was him.”

Cas’ face was blank as he strolled through his memory. Seeking to direct his friend’s attention back to the present, Dean simply said, “What’s the best way to kill him?”

Cas shook his head as if to wake from a dream-state and answered, “If it wasn’t for Alistair, I would suggest simply leaving him behind and turning on the emergency poison gas…”

“Yeah,” agreed Dean, “That would be the least risky way to do it. But we can’t, he’s too much of a wild card. We can’t let this Alistair dude get hold of him. He needs to be put down. Now.”

“I’ll go,” Lily said. Andy, next to her, reached out and snaked an arm around her waist. With his other hand still clutching his weapon, he leaned in and pecked her cheek. Dean thought he saw the guy whisper something to her, and by the way she blushed when he pulled away, it was obviously a compliment of the highest level.

“No,” Cas said firmly, “This isn’t going to be like Max. He’s not unconscious in there. He’s probably not even restrained. He’ll fight. Lily should stay here. I’ll go do it.”

“You ain’t goin in there alone,” Dean cautioned firmly. “I’m going with you.”

“We should all go,” suggested Sam, “He’s no match for all of us.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” injected Evan, “The more of us go in… the more there’s a chance of something going wrong. He’s cunning – like nothing any of us have ever seen. If he even gets through to one of us, we’re all dead.”

“Why don’t just you two go?” Andy suggested as he looked back and forth between Lily and Cas. “Cas knows the guy,” he said as he brushed a lock of Lily’s long, straight hair behind her ear, “and he’s strong enough to protect you, long enough for you to get a hand on him anyway.”

Lily nodded, resolute.

“I’ll talk at you,” Sarah added, “You won’t even have to sing yourself Happy Birthday because you’ll have my voice in your head the whole time.”

Lily seemed to stand taller as she was encouraged. Dean stepped around her to the cart and began sorting through the mess of headphones. It took a moment to figure them out. They were cumbersome to say the least, strapped to the head with two wide bands that converged in an X shape at the back. Lily rolled her eyes when Andy teased her about how sexy the contraption was. Dean pulled the last Velcro strap into place and then patted her arm reassuringly. Once Lily’s was on, everyone could see how the contraption was meant to fit and they all began picking up a set of headphones and strapping them on.

“We’re one set short,” Sam said softly.

“Not really,” Evan said. “Putting one on me is pointless. The minute that door is open, I’ll be reading his mind whether I like it or not. Here,” he said, handing his machine gun to Dean, “just in case.” Then he turned and walked a few paces down the hall and came to a stop about a dozen feet away.

“Do me a favor,” he called out with a chuckle, “Don’t shoot unless you have to okay? Clock me good if ya need to take me down, but don’t fuckin shoot me unless there’s no other choice, got it?” Everybody laughed nervously. “Yeah,” he added, “I’m talkin’ to you, Winchester.”

“Yeah, I got it,” he chuckled, stunned that anyone could make him laugh at a time like this.

Dean had a quick thought for Brandy. It would be hard for her to put herself between Evan and her friends if Luc managed to trick him into attacking. With that thought in mind, he made a slight alteration to the strategy that was taking shape in his mind.

“Hey lovebirds,” he chuckled, grinning at his brother and Sarah, “Come hold the line against Evan. Brandy and I will keep watch down the other hall, and Andy can keep an eye on Cas and Lily when they go in.”

The group all shared a nod of agreement and moved to their positions, with the exception of Dean and Cas who pulled Ruby to the scanner and opened the door. Hastily, not wasting a moment, they dropped her body and bolted to their positions, Dean with his back to the room on guard. Next to him Brandy did too. It wasn’t easy to keep their backs to what was happening in Luc’s cell, but he forced himself to stay vigilant, lest someone sneak up on them while they were distracted. Side by side, he and Brandy stood with weapons ready, guarding their friends.

Dean chanted silent prayers to any deity listening, hopeful that no evil trick of fate would be cruel enough to take his lover from him when they’d only just now reunited. The contraption on his head was heavy and it was unnerving to have no auditory input while he faced away from everything that was important to him… his brother… his lover… the closest friends he’d ever had. His mind flicked to his father and uncles upstairs and then to the time as he pondered how many minutes they’d been on the ward.

When he felt a tap to his shoulder, it startled him and his finger twitched reflexively on the trigger. “Dude,” he husked angrily as he turned to see Cas standing behind him, “coulda fuckin’ shot you man!”

Cas’ face was calm as Dean tore the Velcro straps off and let his headset fall to the floor.

“It’s done,” he said quietly.

“That was quick,” he commented. “Any trouble?”

“No. Lily is quite brave,” Cas said, glancing back to where the stately blonde was pushing her fingers back into gloves.

“She is.” Dean nodded, meeting her eye for a moment over Cas’ shoulder.

Farther down the hall, Sam was laughing with Evan who was clutching Brandy tightly. “Glad that was over quick,” Sam joked. “Evan’s stronger than he looks.”

The group took only a few seconds to enjoy their conquest before Dean announced, “One down and one to go.”

Suddenly somber again, the group fell into step and headed down the hall. Not for the first time, Dean had the sinking feeling that they’d been left alone too long – that they couldn’t possibly be this lucky – that there was a trap set for them and they’d soon walk right into it.

“Be careful,” he whispered, as if anyone in this group would have reason to be reckless. When they’d come cautiously around the next corner, they were past the halfway mark. As of now, they were on their way out of this ward. There was one more blind corner at the end of this corridor, and then they’d be back at the entrance. Arriving at another door, Cas stopped and dropped Ruby. He stepped away from Dean and up to the window.

“That’s MIC,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Dark?” Dean asked.

“No. It would be easier that way, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” he agreed. “So,” said Dean, looking around at the group, “how do we wanna do this?”

“No prisoners,” Evan reminded.

“He’s strong,” added Cas. “We can’t let him near us. We must enter with all the weapons drawn on him and not even blink.”

Everyone nodded their agreement.

“I will attempt to reason with him, and I will offer him to join us. Evan will let us know what he’s thinking and when he speaks, Brandy can tell us if he’s lying.”

Dean watched Cas zero in on Brandy, “We must not be wrong about him or his intentions. If you’re not sure, say so. Don’t say he’s being truthful unless you’re certain beyond all doubt, alright?”

“Alright,” she agreed.

When the door opened, Cas was in front. He was flanked by Evan on one side and Brandy on the other. All three had their guns pointed at MIC, who was sitting on his small bed. He looked up when they entered and was clearly surprised. Still, he didn’t rise. He sat there in poor posture with hunched shoulders. He looked like a child in timeout.

“Mic,” Cas said softly, “do you remember me?”

“I remember you, brother,” he responded. “You’ve been gone a long time. Are you here to kill me?”

“No, I’m here to take you from this place. That is, if you wish to be taken.”

“Where will we go?”

“We will go wherever you choose to go, and we will never return home.”

“No one can take me from my home.”

“We can. We’ve liberated several today, and we will end this place when we leave. Do you wish to come with us?”

“Come with you? To where?”

“The outside,” answered Cas.

Dean wondered why Cas didn’t use the word freedom. He was sure Cas had his reasons… perhaps Mic wouldn’t know the word?

“Where would you take me if I went to the outside with you?”

“You may go where you wish,” Cas answered. “Or you may stay with me. The choice is for you, brother, but there isn’t much time. You must decide quickly or we will all die. What say you?”

“I would like to join you and go to the outside. But there is part of me here – and I cannot leave without it. Will you help me to find it brother?”

“Yes,” Cas answered without hesitation.

“Let us go then,” Mic said, getting to his feet.

“Slowly,” said Cas. “My friends fear your strength. Do not give them cause to harm you.”

“Yes brother,” Mic said as he rose.

“Evan,” Dean called, not taking his eyes off Mic even to blink, “what do you make of this?”

“He’s confused,” answered Evan. “But he trusts Cas. He means us no harm, but he will not hesitate to kill us if we hurt him.”

“Brandy, what do you think?” asked Dean.

“He’s telling the truth about wanting to go outside. He definitely wants to leave with us. He’s being honest when he says he needs to find something. He’s adamant about it.”

“Yeah,” Evan added. “He’s not even sure what he’s looking for, really. He just feels like he’s lost something important. Something they took from him.”

Dean watched Cas step forward and address Mic in a softer voice. “I know how your chest feels,” he said, “I felt that too. It’s called loneliness. It’s normal to feel that when you’re not with the people you love.”

“Love?”

“Yes,” Cas answered, relaxing his posture, “there are many words that we don’t learn here. And there are many that are taught to us erroneously. I will help you learn of these things the way others have helped me. Let us be gone from here, brother.”

Dean watched as Mic took a tentative step forward and came to stand at Cas’ side. Both men then turned and began moving slowly to the door. The group, with weapons lowered but still ready, backed out slowly and allowed space for Mic and Cas to move into the hall.

Cautiously, the group moved into position and prepared to head down the hall. Cas hovered in the center of the group near Mic, and Dean saw that he was needed where he was. So, he thumped Andy on the shoulder and gestured to help him with Ruby.

“I knew I was gonna end up doin’ this at some point,” he groaned as they bent to pick her up. “How long til she starts to stiffen up?” he joked.

“If we’re here that long,” Dean retorted sarcastically, “then we’re as dead as she is.”

Sam moved a bit slower now, but they progressed to the final corner. They were literally about 20 paces from the entrance. Dean felt his blood start churning in excitement to get out of this ward and his adrenaline spiked too as they drew closer to the last turn.

As usual, Evan moved up towards the front and paused to be sure the coast was clear before giving them the signal to move again. Approaching the security desk, Dean saw everything as they’d left it. His heart was pounding as they got progressively closer to the door. To exit, there was no scan. Just a large button to the right of the door. Sarah stepped up to push it and the doors slid open for them, nothing but a miniscule shift of air to accompany the motion.

Moving into the small vestibule again, Dean was thrilled to finally shuck off the gas mask. Dropping it to the floor, he ran a hand through his hair. He’d been sweating around the edges of the mask, and it felt great to finally lift his arm to his face and wipe the moisture away with his sleeve. Cas and Mic stood still as statues amid the group. When everyone was ready again, weapons facing forward, Dean gave Brandy the nod to press the button and open the last set of doors separating C ward from the rest of the Lab.

They moved out into “fresh” air, which didn’t smell any different. But it was. Dean had only taken a few steps when he heard an unnatural sound pierce the hushed silence around them. Another followed it and then another in quick succession. It was the sound of a single person clapping.

 

 

 

Everyone immediately fell into their fighting stance, machine guns at their sides and eyes darting about seeking the source of the sound.

“Well done, my pets,” a crisp voice said in a thick Scottish accent. “It’s about bloody time.”

From a few feet away, Dean heard Cas and Sarah whisper, “Crowley.”

“Why don’t you all remove your itchy fingers from those triggers, and I’ll tell you why you needn’t shoot me.”

No one moved. No one took a breath. Except Evan; he stepped forward to the front of the group. Dean, seeing this, followed the movement and came to stand beside him.

“Children,” the voice said condescendingly, “I have something very precious in my possession. You want it desperately. So does Alistair. Who shall I give it to?”

“What do you want for it?” Evan asked boldly.

“Hey!” barked Dean.

“Relax, Dean,” Evan bit back. “He’s been helping us all along. We’d never have made it this far without him.”

“That’s right, children,” the snarky voice said, “Daddy’s got what you need.”

Following that, Dean watched a middle-aged man emerge from the doorway just a few paces down the hall. He had a swagger to his walk to match the high-dollar suit he wore. The man strolled to the center of the hall and came to a stop, his feet planted and his shoulders squared.

“Now,” he said, “About what I need.”

“I know what you need,” said Evan, “and you have it. Just give us what you’ve got and get out of the way.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dean whispered through clenched teeth.

“He’s got what Mic wants. He’ll give it to us and let us pass.”

“Why? What does he want?”

“I want,” Crowley said firmly, addressing the group, “the same thing that you want. The complete and utter destruction of this hell hole.”

“But why?” he heard Sarah ask.

“Because I’m meant to be the king,” he said. “My place is at the top of the food chain, not eating the scraps from Alistair’s table. I’ve got the connections and the strategy for something better, and I’ve spent my life making deals with all the right people. The only thing holding me back is this place… this place where dreams go to die. I’m forever slaving in this pit for a man who speaks like a child wearing braces.”

Dean turned to Evan and found the kid staring him down. “He helped me,” Evan said again. “He walked by my cell again and again and let me soak up everything he knew. He arranged for me to be re-educated so I’d know what Naomi knew too but made sure I didn’t have my memory wiped. He even found a way for me to talk to Sarah, more than once. Without him, we’d all still be in our cells. And,” he added, “your dad and uncles would still be driving all over creation looking for this place… to which I was able to give you directions.”

“You got me there,” Dean muttered, starting to understand.

“I’m also the reason that there aren’t helicopters moving in right now,” barked Crowley, “or assassins waiting to follow you home and kill your dear ones where they sleep.”

Dean’s mind drifted to Ellen.

“It’s a devil’s bargain, you see,” added Crowley, “mutually assured success or destruction. If your rowdy brood fucks this up, then I end up bending over for a fire hose just like all of you. But if you lot succeed, then I get it all. I get Alistair at the bottom of a smoldering pit where he belongs, while I slide into my new brass ring.

“I’ve got a pet project you see… and it’s far superior to this sloppy mess. No prisoners to keep rounded up, no appropriations committee to tap dance for. I like scotch, you see. Craig. Aged thirty years. This place? This place is Sir Edwards, I’m afraid. And I’m done with the whole thing. I’m not interested in being a daddy, you see. Not even a fake one. Unless it’s to a high-dollar whore with tall boots and a short skirt.”

“Yeah,” said Dean acerbically, “We get it. Now what do you have for us?”

“I have the blueprints,” he said stepping forward to hand off a folded piece of paper. “You’ll be needing these.” Next the man looked straight at Dean and said, “I’ve taken the liberty of marking where the charges should go. Your father and dear uncles have always been C students in the explosives department.”

Dean was stunned. This man knew his father.

“That’s right,” Crowley said. “We’re practically old school chums, me and your old man. Now, take this.”

Dean dropped his eyes to see what the man was holding out. It looked like a hotel room keycard.

“What is this?”

“Access,” he answered with an eye roll. “To a very important item. Take it if you dare. Kill it if you must. But keep it far from me. Your dear Mic won’t leave here without it, and I’ll not have you wasting any more time. This was already sloppier than I like.”

Dean was dumbfounded. He stood for a moment, holding the card, before Crowley clapped his hands together again and brought Dean back to reality.

“Well,” Crowley said sarcastically, “Are you just going to stand there? Get moving!”

“No,” replied Dean, his brain suddenly coming alive and starting to churn. “No way. You don’t get to set the terms of this deal. We’ve got demands.”

“Well I’m on the edge of my seat, young Winchester, let’s hear your demands.”

“We want Cas’ file. He deserves to know who he really is. In fact, I want everything you’ve got on Sam and Sarah and Evan too.”

“Done,” Crowley replied with a casual flick of his wrist. “I’ll make sure the electronic files are dropped somewhere that your boy Frank can easily find them.”

Once more, Dean was stunned. This man knew about Frank… the paranoid old hacker who had gotten intel for John, Bobby and Rufus.

“Anything else?” Crowley prodded. “Or are you planning to waste more time when we’re already running out?”

Dean’s temper was boiling, the sound of Crowley’s voice like acid in his mouth. He was determined to meet this man’s snark pound per pound. “A bottle of that Craig you love so much,” Dean answered snidely as he started walking and moved past Crowley. “Send it to Bobby’s address; we’ve earned it.”

Turning to Evan he said, “You could’ve told me he was in on all this.”

“There hasn’t been time for a planning session,” Evan retorted as they walked briskly. “I’ve just been giving you the information as you needed it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he growled, picturing himself punching Evan in the face when they were out of here.

“You’re forgetting,” Evan said as they walked, “I can read your mind.”

“I know,” he laughed, glad Evan knew he was in line for an ass whipping.

“Yeah Dean, so I know exactly the right time to tell you things. We’ve been working well together so far. You might hate it, but I know you, and that’s been helping us.”

Dean didn’t answer, choosing instead to ask a nagging question about the keycard in his pocket.

“What’s behind the door that this opens?”

“JES.”

“JES?”

“You know him as Jesse.”

“The little shit that lured Sarah in here?”

“The same.”

“We’re supposed to rescue that little fucker?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” challenged Dean.

“Lots of reasons,” Evan fumed. “He’s just a kid.”

“Betcha he’s a Dark,” Dean retorted.

“Betcha he’s not.”

“Why do we need him?”

“We don’t. Mic does.”

“Why?”

“Jesse’s his son.”

 

 

 

Hearing this, Dean deflated a little. No wonder Crowley had been so willing to turn the key over to them. The key opened the door to Jesse, and Crowley was scared of the boy. The man’s words rang in his memory, “Take it if you dare. Kill it if you must. But keep it far from me.” Turning to look at Cas, Dean appraised his man and the “brother” he walked with.

Cas and Mic may not be brothers the way he and Sam were, but they were brothers in the only way they’ve ever understood it. Dean knew that Cas would stand by Mic, and thus Jesse. They had their work cut out for them, that was for sure.

This corridor was big and wide compared to the smaller ones on C and their group moved confidently in practiced formations now. Dean and Andy hoisted Ruby to the scanner and used her eyes for access to B ward. Moving down the hall, they stopped at the doors with name plates on them. Once they’d freed Evan earlier, they’d stopped checking doors in this hall and gone after Sarah. Returning now, they checked each. The group liberated the young man named BAZ who seemed quite confused. Cas spoke to him in much the same way he spoke to Mic – using language as he had used it when this was his home. The next occupied room they came across belonged to a young woman and as they opened the door for her, she did a double take.

“Sam?” she croaked, her eyes tearing up, “Dean?”

“Ava?” responded the brothers in unison.

“Oh my God!” she cried as she threw her arms around Sam, “How did you know? Did you dream of me?”

“Um, no,” Sam said, obviously a little embarrassed. “Nothing came through. I’m sorry.”

“Well who cares, anyway,” she said as she stepped between the brothers, hugging them each fiercely, “You’re here, that’s what matters! I get to go home!”

“How long have you been here?” Dean asked her as she moved past him to join the group.

“The three longest days of my life!”

He could not suppress the urge to laugh. She was one of the lucky ones. This place, once she left it, would just be a blip for her. A nightmare that would soon fade and be gone. Those who’d been here longer, like Mic and Baz, would likely never be fully restored to what they were before. More had been taken from them than they could ever hope to recover.

In the last occupied room on B ward, they found a Dark. Lily made it quick. Then, together, they headed for A. On that ward they put down two Darks and released a man whose door had labeled him DAN. He didn’t speak, even when spoken to. But he did amble along with them, eyes as vacant as a zombie and not looking around at all.

Looking over at Evan, Dean whispered, “That’s everyone.” Then he pulled the keycard from his pocket and said, “Where do we find the door that this opens?”

“Up top,” replied Evan quietly. “His powers surpass anyone here. He can’t be held against his will. Compared to the rest of us, he’s free. But not really. They don’t imprison him in walls. They manipulate him; lie to him. It’s relentless. They tell him that he’s meant to rule the world someday and that they’re going to protect him until it’s his time. He thinks he’s being trained and groomed for that… he doesn’t even know he’s just a puppet. Alistair has called in every favor he can for years and years to keep this place open. His superiors think he’s just committed to the project. You know? Attached to his ‘children’ and determined to succeed. But he’s not. He’s had one goal all along.”

“What does this kid do?”

“Well, you know how Luc can tell people a lie and make people believe it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well this kid shapes your reality – and you believe it,” Evan explained.

“So…” Dean’s voice trailed off, unsure if he was even grasping the concept.

“So,” Evan interrupted, “If someone told him that he was the king of everything – he actually would be. He would bend the reality of all around him until they accepted it too. He could walk right into the White House and proclaim it to be his. The Secret Service would see things his way, and so would everyone else. Our leaders would protect him, and so would the full force of our military. It would spread out like lava from a volcano until everything was as he willed it to be. On a national or global level… he would be the end of everything.”

“And then, what?” gaped Dean, “Somehow that would benefit Alistair?”

“If Jesse were loyal only to him? Yes. Absolutely. Look, I’m not saying Alistair’s plan is to invade the White House. I have no idea what his plans are, but I know he’s been cultivating those plans for a long time. And I know that with Jesse on his side, they’re in reach. ”

“Damn,” Dean muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “That is, like, cartoonishly evil.”

“Yep.”

When the group reached the elevator, Dean leaned in and pressed the button. He glanced back at Cas and was still watching him when a loud ding signaled the arrival of the lift. The entire group readied their weapons, and when the doors slid open to reveal it was empty, they let out a collective sigh of relief and poured inside. With so many of them, there was no elbow room. They were exceeding capacity. But separating now would be foolish. Beyond foolish. Instead, they packed in like sardines and waited for the doors to close.

No one was able to keep their guns pointed towards the door. There simply wasn’t enough space. It was a good thing that the old codgers were looking out for them, and that Crowley had kept reinforcements from being called in. Dean’s eyes wandered over to his man, and the two shared a soft smile. They were going to make it.

 

 

 

When the elevator doors opened, Dean’s heart dropped to his stomach. There, right before his eyes, were his father, Bobby, and Rufus. All were on their knees on the floor, hands behind their heads. And, towering over his father was a man holding a knife in one hand and a magnum in the other.

The man’s slight build may not have been intimidating, but his face exuded the essence of pure evil and his false smile was wide and leering. The point of his knife was at John’s throat and a thin line of red was tracking down the neck. John’s shirt collar had soaked up quite a bit of blood, and the red spot had spread wide. The outline of his clavicle bone was prominent because the shirt was so wet that it clung there. In the man's other hand was the pistol, with a silencer attached.

The elevator door had opened with no guns in the ready position. And now, no one dared move. They all looked on helplessly as a single man stood with one hand on a pistol aimed at Bobby and Rufus, and the other hand on a knife at John’s throat.

“Well, well, well,” he said in a nasally voice as he looked over their ragged group, “Look what we have here…”

The elevator door began to close, but their foe didn’t move. This had to be Alistair. Who else would it be? Dean put his hand up and let it catch between the automatic doors. They immediately parted back open again. Since Alistair’s stance hadn’t changed, Dean figured they could disembark without fear of reprisal. He turned his shoulders sideways so he could step out without jostling anyone and took only one step. He’d hoped that whoever was close to the buttons inside would try to close the doors and slip away from this floor. But, no. Behind him, he felt his friends spilling out and falling in line behind him.

“There are far more of you than I was expecting,” the man hissed. “Some of you I’ve met, some of you not.”

They had so much firepower, but it was useless to them. If one person raised their weapon, this man would cut his father’s throat or shoot one of his uncles. Behind Dean, the heavy breaths of his team were audible. Knowing that their guns were not their only weapons, Dean waited a moment. Andy had the power of suggestion… he could exert his will on Alistair or even Bobby, John or Rufus. Evan could read their minds… implement a plan if any of the ex-agents had one. Sarah could communicate anything she wanted to the entire group. Get Lily close enough and she could drop Alistair with a touch.

So why, he thought, was this moment of tense silence drawing out so painfully? They’d won, right? They’d beaten Alistair to Luc and Mic and they now greatly outnumbered the only foe left. Why, then, was nothing happening?

When the silence was finally broken, it was broken by Alistair.

“Nice try,” he said coldly, looking over at Andy, “But your parlor tricks don’t work on me. You see, we all have our gifts. And mine is to know yours. And to ignore them if I choose.”

Dean’s hope began to wither when he realized that his friends were of no help to him against this man who made his skin crawl. He felt smaller under the gaze when those beady eyes turned from Andy back to him. “You have something I need, dear boy.”

“Yeah, I do,” said Dean, his fingers itching to put this man in the sight of his automatic. “I’ve got what you need right here,” he baited – indicating his rifle.

“Not so fast,” the man replied, dragging out the hiss of his lisp. “I think we need to be on the same page here. You see, your father’s been a bur in my saddle for far too long now. I’m just itchin’ to feel his jugular split open under my knife. But I’d be willing to make a trade, say, for that room key you’re holding.”

“What?” Dean prodded antagonistically, stalling for time. “All these millions in tax dollar allocations, and you don’t have a spare copy of the kid’s room key?”

“You sound like your daddy,” Alistair quipped, “all bluster and no brains. You see, boy, I don’t need the cheap plastic card you’re holding. I just need you not to have it. I can come and go from Jesse’s room as I please – because that boy belongs to me body and soul. I own him.”

Dean’s eyes flicked to his father’s. He saw the steely eyes and the set of the man’s chin. John Winchester would rather die than let Alistair have what he wanted. He likely didn’t even know what the keycard opened. Obviously didn’t care. John wanted nothing more than to keep Alistair from the object of his desire. This was the man who’d killed his wife… his soulmate… the mother of his children… he’d rather die a thousand deaths than budge an inch.

Dean knew how he’d feel about anyone who harmed Cas. And that’s how John felt about Alistair. Besides, this man had taken from him, too. He’d have grown up with a mother if it weren’t for the man in front of him. Dean easily found his resolve.

“Fuck you,” he spat, voice dripping with anger and righteous indignation.

It was worth it to see a smile twitch at the corner of John Winchester's mouth, even if just for a second. The next thing he knew, it felt like a wrecking ball had hit him. His legs buckled awkwardly, then he was sailing backwards through the air and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. The wind was knocked out of him, and pain was rolling over him in waves. It took a long time to trace the origins of the pain to his left leg. Picking his head up off the floor and looking down his body, Dean saw a large red circle on his thigh. It grew bigger and bigger before his eyes. There was a raggedy hole at the center. He’d been shot.

“Wrong answer,” Alistair spat.

Dean gasped for breath and when he caught one, he worked to draw a deeper one and couldn’t. He was panting as he worked to control his reaction to the pain. It was a battle he was losing.

“Now,” Alistair said in a sickeningly kind voice, “there’s a lot of talent in this room.” He looked directly at Sarah, but he called her Ada and pronounced it the way Cas had – Aida. “Ada, sweetheart,” he implored, “you came around quickly here – took to your new life with grace and dignity. I can offer you that life again. Join me now… or die with your friends.”

Dean, trying to keep his head in the game despite the pain that ratcheted through his body, looked up at the group he’d marched in here with. Sarah’s face gave away nothing. If she was considering the offer, she didn’t show it. Looking from face to face, he realized she was likely talking to the group with her inner voice. Dean wasn’t sure what he was even looking for until his eyes were skimming over this friends for the second time. Cas. He was looking for Cas. Just seeing his face would be a comfort, but the man was nowhere to be found.

Slowly, hope crept up on Dean as he laid there in agony. Perhaps as they’d all stepped forward out of the elevator, one of them had remained in it after all. Cas had been so scared before… perhaps he’d given into that fear once more. Maybe he’d lingered behind in the elevator and taken it down. Imagining Cas, who was always so stealthy, lingering quietly out of sight in the elevator and riding it to freedom made Dean’s heart swell with joy. Perhaps his friend would find freedom after all. If they couldn’t have it together – at least he could meet his end knowing that his blue-eyed angel was alive and well somewhere.

Alistair’s slimy voice cut through his little fantasy and brought his mind back to the present. Lying on the floor at the feet of his friends, Dean couldn’t even see the indicator lights on the elevator to know for sure if his friend had stolen safely away. He turned his attention back to the man who held all the power at the moment.

“And Lily,” Alistair sighed wistfully. “Where is my little angel of death, hmmm?”

Dean’s eyes found her nearby, standing statuesque and filled with obvious contempt as she watched Alistair figure out which one she was, “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby,” he cooed at her, “but I was on my way to see you – when you were stolen from me.”

Dean smiled and looked over at John as he acknowledged Lily’s rescue from Eric, full of pride at having bested Alistair before and taken something he desired. John’s slight tip of the head in recognition was unspoken praise for Dean, and it filled his chest with pride.

“What about you, Bif?” Alistair prodded, looking at Evan and calling him by his newly given name. “Would you like to return to your new life? Or lose it completely?”

Dean watched intently as Alistair moved to the left, relaxing minutely when the knife was retracted from his father’s throat only to feel his stomach twist as he watched the man move from John to Bobby with smooth and calculating movements. Dean felt his throat swell and hitch as Bobby became the hostage. Alistair didn’t miss the sob that rose in Dean’s throat, or the pitiful noise that followed when he tried in vain to swallow it down.

“And Sam,” prattled Alistair, turning Dean’s blood cold, “how fitting that you’re here. Especially since I didn’t even have to buy you. Your father and brother were kind enough to bring you in for me… free of charge.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. Dean’s head spun towards his brother, eyes filling with tears as he realized that they’d done exactly that. They’d brought Sammy into the lion’s den. And here he’d stay.

“For you, Sam,” Alistair added, “this choice is about more than life or death. You’ve got your father to think about. John Winchester is important to you, no doubt. But he was never father of the year, was he? He’s not your real father, is he boy? This is your real father,” crooned Alistair, indicating the man at the tip of his knife… Bobby Singer. For some reason, even though he’d often thought of John Winchester as a shitty father, Dean couldn’t bear the thought of someone else saying it aloud. And he certainly couldn’t stand for having his father see on his face that it was true.

“This old coot is your real father,” Alistair said, pressing the knife in deeper to draw a bit of blood, “You stay here and play nice,” the evil man hissed, “and I’ll be inclined to let both of your daddys walk out of here tonight.”

The room was dead silent except for the heavy breaths Dean was gulping as he watched his brother’s face crumble. He worked hard to hold a poker face, but he was failing. Clenching his chin to keep his expression stern, Dean fought the moisture that sprang to his eyes upon seeing Bobby compromised and Sam tested like this. To his credit, Uncle Bobby didn’t blink.

“You gonna blather on all night?” his uncle challenged from under the knife. “The kid knows we’d rather die than see him a prisoner here.”

Ignoring Bobby’s comment, Alistair returned his attention to Sam. “To make the choice easier for you,” he growled, raising his gun to target Dean, “I’ll show you what it feels like to lose a loved one that you could’ve saved.”

Even as his mind grappled with the reality of what was happening, Dean knew it was to be expected. After all, in this group, he was the expendable one. He had no gift. He was the acceptable loss.

 _This is it_ , Dean thought, watching Alistair level the pistol at him, _this is how I’m going to die_.

From his position sprawled on the floor, Dean heard the click as the gun was cocked and closed his eyes tightly. What a strange time it was to wonder if he’d piss himself when it happened. _No_ , he thought, _don’t close your eyes for this. Take it like a man._

With resolve he’d not known he possessed, Dean opened his eyes and lifted his head to return a cold stare at the man who was about to end his life.

“Fuck you,” he said again.

At that moment, a blur of movement shot forward. John, from the floor, had leapt to his feet and surprised Alistair. He wasn’t close enough to make a play for the gun, but he was able to step into the line of fire. Dean’s jaw dropped as he watched John Winchester put his own body between the gun and his oldest son, the son he was barely speaking to, and say, “You already killed my Mary. I won’t watch you kill my son.”

The evil man seemed surprised by the turn of events – and a bit relieved that his control was still intact. “Have it your way,” Alistair said as he pulled the trigger and squeezed off two shots consecutively.

Dean watched his father fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Over the body, he saw Alistair smile. It was brief, so brief. A moment of bliss on the face of a maniacal man. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, there were two hands framing Alistair’s face. The hands were quick, a flash of movement that barely registered. But as the sick smile of satisfaction began to melt from the face of his enemy, Dean was already recognizing the familiar movement… the swift and terrible hands of his friend and lover. They were like the hands of a specter emerging from the shadows as they whipped a garrote wire into place and pulled it tight.

Dean, having long ago set his hopes on Cas’ escape, was stunned by this turn of events. But he couldn’t look away, hungry for this sweet taste of vengeance. He heard the telltale gurgle as Cas’ wire sliced through wet tissue, esophagus, and carotid artery. Dean’s body thrilled to the sound of it. As he watched, the last of the light left Alistair’s eyes and his face twisted into a reluctant acceptance of what was happening. The body, already seeming lighter, slid to the floor softly at Cas’ feet.

Dean’s glee over this unexpected and vengeful kill was short lived. Reality came crashing down on him as he felt, more than heard, all those behind surging forward. Everyone was shouting as the uncles and the gifted converged on the place where John Winchester had fallen. Dean could see nothing of his father through the cluster.

Andy’s voice was in his ear then, a welcome sound. He was talking to Dean, but the words were lost to him. He could only watch as his friend knelt next to him and carefully lifted the sopping red denim from his leg. Andy’s fingers worked into the hole left behind by the bullet and then tore, ripping his jeans open to get a look at the wound. Suddenly Bobby was there too. He was giving instructions to Andy, but even as Andy ran off to follow orders, Dean still could hear nothing. All noise was swallowed up in a soft vacuum, and he could only look at Bobby as the man tried to speak to him. Soon his eyes were unable to focus because of tears, and the distortion of the world around him added to the deafness and threatened to overwhelm him. Choking as he tried to speak, Dean finally found his voice.

“Is he dead?” he fought to spit out. “Is he dead? Is he dead?”

His voice was distant, even to his own ears, as he pleaded for information about his father. He could make out no voice above the others and since he couldn’t see either, despair sank down on him like a leaden weight. There were hands on him, but he couldn’t see whose. There were voices in his ear, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. The pain that had seemed to abate in his leg now gathered at his core, and he felt a pressure there like nothing he’d ever known before, like the weight of an elephant crushing his chest. It robbed him of his breath and reduced his shouting to mousy, wretched pleading. “Is he… is he….”

Unexpectedly, it was touch that finally broke through the invisible wall separating Dean from reality. Two hands, strong and firm, grasped his face. Only one person in all the world had ever held his face like this before. Perhaps his mother when he was a tot? Maybe. But none since, except Cas. Dean quieted, feeling reassured by the very presence of his man. Soon his eyes were cleared as careful thumbs swiped the tears from them. Able to focus now, Dean watched those penetrating blue eyes as they hovered near his. Under that commanding gaze, Dean found himself orienting to the world around him. The chaos fell away into the background and his addled brain was finally able to separate Cas’ deep and steady voice from the others.

“Your father is alive,” Cas was saying. Dean’s eyes dipped down to Cas’ lips and watched them form the words, just to be sure. “Your father is alive, Dean,” he was repeating. With that knowledge secure, Dean felt himself calming. Everything else seemed to come back online in his body, like a computer turning on, one system at a time. His heart was still thundering, and he knew that because he was starting to feel it again. With the next breath he was becoming aware of his body position and following that, he began testing his limbs. That’s when the pain hit him again.

“I know,” Cas placated, supporting his head. “Come, Dean,” he was saying, “we must leave this place. You promised me a future, remember?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he willed his body to cooperate. “Yeah man, help me up.”

Looking around, as multiple hands pulled him to his feet, Dean took stock of himself. He was covered in blood. One leg of his jeans had been torn off and a makeshift bandage, similar to the one he’d cinched onto Sammy’s arm, was now cutting off most of the circulation in his leg from above the wound in his thigh, which was still oozing blood. Bright red was rolling down his bare leg and stains covered the remaining tatters of his jeans. There were puddles and streaks smeared on the ground at his feet.

With Cas to his left and Andy to his right, Dean found himself in Ruby’s position, dead weight suspended between two men. His good leg was weak but seemed to hold his weight, so he tried the other. The pain ripped through his body from toe to shoulder like a bolt of lightning, and he cried out against it.

“You scream like a girl,” Bobby chastised from nearby. Despite the fiery pain that still licked his body from the inside, Dean found the ability to chuckle at his uncle, probably thrilled to hear the man’s voice after almost losing him.

“Sam?” he called out, now taking stock of everyone.

“Here,” his brother called back. Following the sound of his voice, Dean swiveled his head to the side and found Sammy closer than expected. He was only a few steps away, helping Rufus get their father to his feet. John’s ever present jacket was off, and his shirt was bloody and partially unbuttoned with one sleeve torn off.

“Leave it,” John was saying as Sam fussed over his Kevlar vest. “We ain’t outta here yet.”

Roving his eyes over the dark material, Dean saw the imprint of one bullet in John’s vest. Just a few inches away John was leaking bright red blood into a homemade bandage. It wasn’t doing much good, tied awkwardly around the meat of his shoulder.

“That your handy work?” Dean teased his brother, indicating his father’s half-assed bandage.

“Hey,” Rufus barked from behind, “if you think you can do better, then step your busted ass up here.”

“My boys,” chuckled John, looking back and forth between them, “both of ya full of holes. It’s like a family tradition, huh? C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

Dean hadn’t realized in all the chaos that his friends had been patting his back and speaking encouraging words to him. But as he felt Cas’ arm tighten around his waist, Dean realized that the group was hovering around him and Sam and John. Once all were standing, some with help, Bobby ordered everyone forward.

Together now, young and old, the entire group walked down the main hall of the ground floor of the building. It was so strange to actually see windows again. Not wanting to be quite the dead weight that Ruby had been, Dean worked to use his one good leg as best he could. The door they were headed to now was obvious, different from all the others. As they progressed, Bobby took point and Evan worked with the girls to secure each room they passed while they all made their way down the corridor to free the last captive.

They opened the door timidly, not knowing what to expect. When they did, they found Jesse sitting on a couch and watching television as he ate chips from a bag. At the sound of their entry, the boy looked over at them. He obviously had no idea who they were.

“What do you guys want?” he asked innocently. No one really seemed to know what to say.

“Is he a Dark?” Dean whispered to Cas.

“Um, kind of. He has a dark spot gathering,” Cas answered softly, looking over at Sam, “but it’s not developed into full darkness yet. I’ve seen this before, and I think there is hope.”

As they’d been whispering, Brandy had stepped up to address the child. She introduced herself to him and said that they all had gifts and that he did too.

“I know,” he answered her. “There are lots of people with powers, but I am the strongest.”

“You are very strong,” she agreed.

“Who are you?” the boy asked, looking past her. At first, Dean thought that the boy was talking to Cas. But he wasn’t. He was talking to Mic, who was standing next to Cas.

“I’m Mic,” he answered, moving closer.

“I’m Jesse,” the kid responded. “Do you know who I am?”

“I know you are important to me,” he answered, gesturing to his chest, “I can feel it in here.”

“I feel it too,” said the boy, turning his full attention to Mic.

Dean watched as the two settled in together on the couch and began talking. As Jesse and Mic got to know one another, Dean found himself being lowered into a chair. It was a relief to be seated. Next to him, John was being lowered into a chair as well. Once John was taken care of, Sam found himself a place to sit, too. While the three worked to catch their breath, Bobby and Rufus were directing the rest of the group. The blueprint Crowley had given them was being spread out on a nearby table, and everyone who could walk was gathering around it. It was impossible not to roll his eyes as Dean watched Rufus and Bobby argue over the details of how best to lay the needed explosive charges. When they finally agreed on their course of action, the group split into teams, each taking the appropriate amount of equipment with them as they headed back out into the hall.

Deemed unfit for further duty, the three Winchesters were told to keep an eye on Mic and Jesse. The recently reunited father and son were speaking to one another and paying their company no attention. So, with nothing better to do while waiting, father and sons compared wounds for bragging rights and then took turns re-dressing each other’s bandages. Once they were cleaned up, all three sagged in their seats, exhausted.

The clock ticked out minutes and almost half an hour had passed when the group returned for them. Mic and Jesse got up from the couch and joined the group quietly when Cas announced they were leaving. The girls came over to help Sammy get to his feet and Bobby stepped up to John, taking his weak side and helping him stand.

Dean hadn’t realized it, but as he’d sat, his body had been stiffening up. When Cas and Andy pulled him to his feet, he swore like a sailor through gritted teeth.  The two then shouldered his weight as they moved towards the exit. Baz, Dan and Ava shuffled along with the group but didn’t say much. When they reached the door to outside world, Dean’s helpers paused to let the others exit first. Looking over at his man, Dean saw Cas taking one last look around.

When everyone else had exited, Dean’s helpers assisted him through the door. The icy breeze that cut across his body helped clear his foggy mind as they made their way slowly across the yard. As they neared the fence line, movement in his peripheral vision grabbed his attention. On the far side of the grounds was a warehouse that had once sheltered school buses. Between that structure and the outlying fence was a long line of prisoners. Dean counted over a dozen of their captives that were still alive and seated on the ground with their backs to the fence.

The men’s hands were still bound behind their backs but their feet had obviously been cut apart so they could be walked out here. As the group moved past the men to exit the property, Dean could see that each pair of bound hands was now secured to the chainlink fence. When Dean asked what would happen to them, his father answered, “They’ll be safe from the blast here. When this blows, the cavalry will come. First responders will care for the injuries and when the top brass come in to manage the situation, they’ll be questioned. Most likely, they’ll be fed some misinformation and coached into an official story.”

“What happened to Crowley?”

“Gone,” John answered, his contempt for the man obvious in his tone, “I’m sure he’s currently somewhere public with someone credible. He’ll need a rock solid alibi when he goes in front of the oversight committee. The next few weeks will be tricky for him. Good thing he’s a sneaky sonofabitch.”

“Do we trust him?”

“Not in the least,” John laughed. “But we trust him to have his own best interest at heart,” John answered as they came to a stop at Andy’s van.

“How far back do you guys go?” Dean asked curiously.

“All the way to my early days at the bureau. He was involved in the Lab back when your mom was there, but I don’t remember exactly what his role was. Never cared much for him after the Christmas party that first year.”

“Why’s that?”

“We shared a jail cell that night.”

“Are you frickin’ kidding me?”

“Yeah, should’ve just gone home with your mother like a good boy.”

Dean had to chuckle at that. “So much I don’t know about you.”

“Yeah, it’s better that way, trust me.”

“You and Crowley? Really?”

“Well we weren’t pals or anything, but he seemed harmless enough back then. We both managed to step in the same shit a few times. He was always smug as fuck though; it didn’t sit right with me. He had expensive tastes too – irritating little fucker. Just not my kind of guy. Haven’t seen him since you kids were born. Shortly after you boys moved in over at Bobby’s place, I heard he’d been moved… something overseas. But he was here, I guess. All that time.”

Around them, everyone was trying to figure out who was riding in which vehicle. They had more people with them now than they did when they’d arrived here less than an hour ago. Cas wanted to stay with the freed prisoners, so Dean tossed the Impala keys to his father and climbed into the back of Andy’s van with his friend and their new companions.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched his father sling an arm around Sam’s neck and say, “C’mon, let’s burn some tread off Dean’s tires.”

Sam pulled Sarah along with him to the Impala, and Brandy followed after them with Evan. Turning his attention to his uncles, Dean shook his head as he watched them both squeeze awkwardly into the van. They settled on the floor near the front, where Andy and Lily were climbing into the captain’s chairs.

“How long till it goes?” Dean asked, referring to the building that the group had just lined with C4.

“We’ve got time to get a good seat,” Bobby laughed.

“Not gonna be much to see,” Rufus complained.

Dean looked at his uncles questioningly and asked, “Why not?”

“He likes the big show,” Bobby answered, “maximum damage.”

Beside Bobby, Rufus was nodding and holding a wide grin.

“But in this case,” Bobby continued, “we’re not putting on a show. There’s civilian homes nearby, so we’re set to implode the building instead… take it down easy like a demolition team would do… avoid casualties.”

“It won't be much,” Rufus added, “but it’ll still be fun to watch it go down.”

Dean leaned back against the wall of the van then, exhausted. His eyes lingered on Cas for a few moments before they drifted closed. His friend was sitting amid his newly freed siblings, offering reassurances in a way they seemed to understand and answering their questions.

“Hey idjit!”

Dean startled as his peaceful drifting was interrupted by Bobby shouting at him. His eyes flew open and he turned his head toward the sound of his uncle, shouting, “What?”

“No sleeping,” Bobby chastised, “not till you’re on a gurney in the ER.”

“C’mon, Bobby,” he growled. “I was just resting my eyes.”

“Save it, ya idjit. Just keep them peepers open til you see chicks in scrubs.”

Knowing Bobby was right, Dean huffed a long-suffering sigh and said, “We did it, ya know.” Looking over at his uncle, he added, “You never thought we’d all make it. But we did. We all walked outta there.”

“Yeah, some faster than others,” Rufus teased.

The van navigated the quiet, darkened streets with caution.  The trip was only a few short minutes, but Dean was crashing hard and fast. Holding his head up and his eyes open was quite difficult, especially when surrendering to sleep promised relief from the agonizing pain.

It was strange how his body had processed the sensation of being shot. The agony of it would spike and he’d clench against it, secretly wondering if he could possibly endure. Then, with a shiver, his body would finally accept the pain, and an odd sense of relief would pass over him. It was almost as if the agony was receding a bit. But then, just as the pain became manageable, it would spike again. The cycle was relentless.

Before long, the van slowed and then lurched as it pulled off the smooth highway and onto the rough shoulder. When Bobby slid over and shoved the sliding door of the van open, Dean felt a welcome breeze blow into the van. It was bliss to have the cool air slithering over his feverish skin. It was tempting to just sit here and wait. Everyone was emptying the vehicles, but it was only for a moment. They were perched on a familiar hilltop; the same one that they’d stopped at on the way to The Lab when Bobby had made a final check with his night vision binoculars. They were here for one reason only. To stand and marvel at the sight as The Lab imploded and fell to the ground.

The next stop would be the emergency room. Did Dean like the ER? No. But that’s where the vials of morphine and Demerol lived. Right now, there was no single thought more enticing.  A lovely pin prick in his arm and a clean pillow to fall asleep on… that’s all he wanted. And maybe to be warm. Shivers were seizing him now, made worse by his blood loss, and his teeth were chattering.

As Cas moved past him to exit the van, he laid a hand on Dean’s good leg. Looking up at Cas, Dean knew he’d never miss this moment. So, he gritted his teeth and pushed himself forward. The resurgence of pain as he angered his resting limb was dizzying, but he slid forward anyway. Slowly, Dean used his three good limbs to crab walk pathetically towards the opening and then ease his legs out and down to the ground. Cas wasn’t even looking at him, his attention occupied by his siblings who asked many questions, each at different levels of comprehension regarding the outside world.

Bobby moved in to help Dean get to his feet. Once he was vertical, he kept his weight on his good leg and sagged against the side of the van. The Impala had pulled up behind them and as the passengers of each vehicle mixed together and chattered excitedly, Dean saw Sam coming toward him. His brother leaned up next to him and sighed.

“I’m going to sleep well tonight,” he said quietly.

“Me too. For days, Sammy. M’gonna sleep for days. Then it’s nothing but burritos and strippers till I’m back on my feet again.”

The two were still laughing when John wandered up beside them. Nearby, Bobby and Rufus were arguing over something. Dean was watching his father as the man moved to his side and leaned on the van, effectively sandwiching Dean between his dad and his brother.

“Well boys,” John said, looking mostly at Sam, “this is it. Since your mama was killed, I’ve thought of nothing but this.”

“What are you gonna do now, Dad?”  his brother asked in response.

The man was silent for a beat and then chuckled as he said, “I don’t know… I think the answer is supposed to be ‘I’m going to Disney Land,’ right? But you boys are probably too old for that now, huh?”

Dean smiled at the sentiment and glanced over at Cas.

“You boys have missed a lot because of all this,” John lamented, “because of your mom being gone… because of me… how I handled it…”

When his father’s voice trailed off into the night, Dean looked over at the man’s profile. He was troubled; it was easy to see.

“Let’s face it,” John Winchester finally continued, “Ol’ Alistair wasn’t wrong. Bobby’s been your father more than I have. Mary would’ve wanted better for you boys. She wouldn’t be happy if she knew how I’d raised you.”

“You had to…” began Dean.

“No,” John interrupted, “I didn’t. That’s what I’m tryin’ to say. Maybe you boys were never gonna have a normal life… running and hiding and shit. But you still could’ve had a better father. Instead of spending every day from then til now thinking about losing Mary, I should’ve been focused on doing right by her. Ya know? Raised her kids the way she would’ve if she’d been here. I haven’t done that. Without her, I’ve been lost. And I’ve been a disgrace.”

“Dad…” Dean tried.

“No son. I was wrong. And when I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. I had two sons. And I guess I didn’t know either one very well.” John looked past Dean to Sam and said, “Sammy, you’ve had visions and you’ve learned to use them and saved lives. But you kept it secret from me because you didn’t think I’d handle it right. And Dean,” John continued, turning to lock eyes with him, “you took the chance on me. You told me your secret. That took balls. But I didn’t handle it right. All I was thinking of was what it meant to me. Never thought of you even once. It wasn’t right, how I treated you. But that’s done now, hear me?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, once again working to hold his emotions in check.

“I mean it, boy. You’ve taken real good care of your brother, and you’ve made a life for yourself. You’ve grown into a good man, and I’m proud of you.”

Dean felt his chest clench as he heard the words. He bit back tears, fought them with every ounce of his strength, not wanting to show his father any weakness.

“You too, Sammy. It hasn’t been easy for you, but you’ve got a good heart despite all you’ve seen and you’re growing up to be a fine young man. You make me so proud. Both of you. Both of my boys.”

When Dean heard Sam sniffle from beside him, he looked over and saw his younger brother’s eyes rimmed with red. Looking back at his father, he saw the same. Seeing he wasn’t the only one, Dean released his tension and let his chin quiver. His vision blurred as his eyes filled and then, for the first time Dean could even remember, his father turned and pulled them both into his arms.

It wasn’t just the quick little back-slapping hug they’d occasionally exchanged over the years. This was a real hug, a meaningful one, with arms that locked tightly and heads that tipped in towards each other. The warmth of it filled him up. For once, it wasn’t over too soon. It lingered a long time. When they finally pulled apart, each went about trying to discreetly wipe away the leaking tears.

“John,” Bobby called from a few feet away.

“Yeah,” he answered, stepping away from them.

Dean watched his father walk away and then wiped a straggling tear off with his sleeve. Sarah walked up as soon as John was gone and wrapped her arms around Sam, obviously having witnessed the exchange and wanting to be there for his brother. He turned his face away to give them some privacy and when he did, he found Cas approaching.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Dean,” his friend whispered as he leaned in to hug him tightly. “Are you alright?” he questioned as they pulled apart.

“Yeah, man,” he answered, “I’m good. Real good.”

Cas stayed with him then, leaning on the van by his side, preparing to watch the show.

“When will it happen?” Cas asked, looking around.

“When Rufus and Bobby quit arguing about the damn detonator,” he laughed.

“How’s the leg?”

“How do you think, Cas?” Dean joked. “It hurts like a motherfucker.”

Their laughter died down, and Dean found himself again working just to keep awake. It was all he could do to stand. When Bobby finally walked over with a remote detonator in his hand, Dean blurted out, “’Bout frickin time. I thought we’d be here til I was your age.”

Bobby smiled at the sentiment and then looked past him and set his eyes on John.

“We thought,” said Bobby to John, “that you should do the honors. Especially since you didn’t get to pull the trigger on Alistair.”

“Well, I got to watch,” John said as he took the detonator, “and he was lookin’ at me when he realized it was over for him. That’ll do.”

Dean watched as his father took a deep breath and looked from Bobby to Rufus and then to him and Sam.

“Boys, this is for your mother,” John Winchester whispered as he squeezed and released. Over his father’s shoulder, Dean saw the fiery plume of bright orange cloud as it rose up from the valley below, brilliantly vivid against the black sky. Seeing it happen took Dean back to a late summer’s day, not so very long ago, when he’d stood with his uncle and brother next to the Impala and watched Jeff’s house explode and be reduced to tinder. A full body shiver snaked up his spine as he remembered how it had felt on that day… the finality of the explosion and the knowledge that nothing remained of his own private hell.

Dean hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on it much in his quest to put Jeff behind him. But after rescuing Brandy from behind the dumpster, he’d found himself thinking on it some. He’d had to acknowledge that he was lucky in some ways. Most victims of violence, especially rape, don’t see any justice. Too many victims never even see the inside of a courtroom or a police station. And sadly, many are forced to still see their attacker again after – because they already knew them from somewhere. The thought of having to endure what he had – and then watch his attacker walk away without consequences made his stomach revolt. Yes, he was lucky compared to many victims because his attacker lived now only in his nightmares.

Knowing now how therapeutic it had been to watch the sight of your torture go up in flames, Dean reached out and plucked the binoculars from Bobby’s hand. Handing them to Cas he said, “Here man, get a better look.”

Cas nodded gratitude and took them, raising them to his face and adjusting them with his fingers as he looked out into the valley below. For Dean’s naked eye, the excitement was over. The small mushroom cloud had dissipated greatly and the only light in the darkness was a small glow of reddish-orange in the distance. When he’d seen what he needed to, Cas passed the binoculars around to his siblings and let them all get a look at the burning waste of what was once their “home.”

 

 


	11. A Damn Good Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're someone who carefully watches tags regarding sexual dynamics, then PLEASE check the notes at the end of the chapter for updated tags. (Tags contain spoilers.)

Cas reached down and picked Dean’s dirty shirt up from the floor and pulled it on. Though it was spring now, it was still chilly outside. He padded across the hardwood floor in stocking feet and carefully opened the door, not wanting to wake Dean. Out on the front porch now, he stepped into his shoes as he inhaled the sweet morning air. This part of Kansas City smelled much different than the area over near Troost where Dean used to live, and Cas used to hunt.

Together, they had boxed up Dean’s things and then yesterday all of their local friends had come to assist with loading furniture and boxes into the back of both Cole’s truck, and Ash’s newly restored El Camino. It had taken many trips across town, but in the dark last night, they’d finally carried the last of their things up the sidewalk and into this new house.

Cas had loved this part of town the moment he’d begun hunting here. The rolling hills and majestic trees made the area feel like a garden dotted with homes. It was a striking contrast to the old neighborhood where small square plots of land were separated by tall fences, and windows were often covered with plywood. When someone uttered the words “home sweet home,” this was the kind of place that leapt to mind. And now, it was his. He finally had a dwelling to call his own; one he would share with his Bright. Since Cas’ money was paying for part of it, he felt more ownership of it than he had at Dean’s old house, the cabin, or any of the many hotel rooms the two had shared. In fact, Dean had told him more than once that without Cas’ money, there was no way he could afford to live here.

Now, having slept here for the first time last night, Cas was about to do something he’d seen done on TV many times but had never done himself. He walked down the steps onto the sidewalk and retrieved the newspaper. It was rolled into a clear sack and dropped in the dewy green grass. Around him, birds were singing in the trees. Breathing a sigh of satisfaction, he looked to the left and right, observing his block. A few doors down, a sedan was pulling out of a driveway. Across the street a woman was pushing a stroller. It was just like on television, and he loved it.

Cas hated to turn away from the idyllic scenery, but his stomach was rumbling. They would likely go out to eat since there were no boxes unpacked yet, and as he considered what kind of breakfast he’d like to have, he walked purposefully back into the house. Pushing in through the front door and then closing it behind him, he dropped the paper on the table and made his way back to the living room.

They’d never actually taken the bed up upstairs last night, too tired to do much of anything once all their helpers had left. Instead, they’d left the mattress on the living room floor and flopped down onto it. With the last of their energy, they’d made love in their new house. They couldn’t find any pillows or blankets, but they had lube.

Dean’s kisses had been soft and gentle, lingering. Probably in part because they were tired, or maybe also because last night was special. With the kind of smile that Dean seemed to only wear for him, the man had reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring.

“I need you, Cas,” he’d whispered as he took Cas’ hand and slid the ring into place, “I’ve never belonged with anyone the way I belong with you. Will you marry me?”

Cas had seen enough TV to know what the gesture had meant for them and he’d given his yeses eagerly between kisses as their arms had tightened around each other. Now, with the morning sun at his back, Cas stood in the doorway as Dean lay sleeping and remembered it all. Not just the proposal, but the lovemaking after.

With deepening kisses and wandering hands, the two had peeled off their shirts and pants slowly. As skin was revealed, their mouths chased it. They’d licked and sucked and tasted each other as their arousal grew thick and heavy between their naked bodies. With his need building, Cas had whispered a breathless invitation to his lover. Dean’s response had been surprising.

He’d rolled to the side and put his back to Cas. Then he’d folded himself into Cas’ arms and arched his back to press his soft butt cheeks against Cas’ hardened shaft.

“Dean?” he’d whispered, unsure of what to make of things.

“Yeah, Cas,” had been the answer. More with his body than with his words, Dean showed Cas how he wanted to make love.

“Like this?” Cas questioned, pressing his cock forward between Dean’s plump cheeks to be sure his meaning was understood.

“Yeah,” Dean had confirmed, pressing himself back and swiveling his hips, “like this, Cas.”

Still a bit uncertain, but eager, Cas had proceeded to roll Dean onto his stomach. He spread the man’s legs apart and bent to his work, spending long and blissful minutes licking his lover open, to which Dean responded in whispers and moans. Then, Cas watched his fingers as they slid into that tender pink pucker of pleated skin and began to open Dean up. He’d put fingers in Dean before… did it all the time as a matter of fact. But this was different. This time he was doing it purposefully, and for the purpose of preparation. That made it even more erotic.

Watching his fingers was salacious and rousing. His dick was aching and leaking and, to his surprise, his own entrance twitched jealously. It wanted Dean too, it was hungry for him. To appease himself, Cas reached around behind and let one of his own slick fingers trace and circle his own hole.

“Yeah baby,” whispered Dean, and Cas realized that Dean was watching him finger himself. With a mischievous grin to match his lover’s, Cas added another finger to the deep dark space between Dean’s glistening cheeks and thrust it in, while also adding a second finger to his own. When he could wait no longer, Cas pulled his fingers out from behind and wrapped them around his dick, giving a few heavy pulls to release the gathering tension.

Still, Dean was watching over his shoulder and when their eyes met, he smiled warmly. It was time. Carefully, Cas put hands to Dean’s torso and guided him back onto his side and pressed up behind him. The smell from Dean’s neck set Cas's pulse racing and as his mind conjured pictures for him of what he was about to do, which set his body on fire with tingles of anticipation.

“Are you sure?” he questioned as he shifted his body into position and prepared to be inside Dean for the first time.

“Cas,” his Bright had answered, “I’m sure. I mean, I never thought I’d want this. But I do. I wanna give this to you.”

“And I want to take it,” he whispered into Dean’s ear as he pushed in.

Dean made a few small, abortive noises and grew tense as Cas slid slowly inside. But, once he'd bottomed out, they both took a deep breath and let it go slowly. Remembering his own first time, how shocking and overwhelming the feeling had been, he gave Dean plenty of time before he began to move. It was different this way, being the one inside. The pleasure was overwhelming, but the feeling of it was oddly unsettling. Almost as though he were on the wrong side of a mirror. He felt clumsy too, in this new role. It took a few thrusts to really master the angle and the motion to use – to get the rhythm right. But once he got the hang of it, his pleasure had mounted quickly. He pushed in and pulled back out, astonished by the intensity of the sensation. Gasping heavy breaths, Cas had felt himself grow even larger and harder inside of Dean. 

The constriction on his shaft was almost too much to bear, and the onslaught of pleasure was like a speeding train bearing down on him; he couldn’t slow it down or hold it back. Dean reached back and clutched at his hip, gripping tightly and not letting go. Cas cursed aloud as their momentum carried him past his breaking point. When he hit his climax, Cas shuddered, momentarily losing control of his own body as overwhelming pleasure surged through him and burst into Dean.

Once he’d come, he began returning to himself. Still, he could feel Dean's hole clutching tightly to his own softening shaft. As always, when it was over, Cas felt a moment of sorrow as their bodies disconnected from one another against his will. Small and pitiful in the aftermath, his cock slid out of Dean and a dribble of cum followed it. 

Seeking to maintain their connection as best he could, Cas reached out and threaded their fingers together. Catching his breath, he tried to enjoy the intermittent rolls of pleasure that still passed through him as his breathing returned to normal. But, sadly, all he'd been able to think of was his performance. He knew that compared to his Bright, Cas hadn’t given much pleasure. Not only had it been over too quickly, but he’d not even touched Dean’s cock. Dean always did that for him, among many other things that his Bright did to make their consummations incredible. He, however, had done nothing for his partner. Lost in the sensations, he’d done nothing but feel.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he whispered, tucking his body up against his friend.

“What for?”

“I don’t think I did that very well. You always make it so good for me. I’m afraid I’ve left you disappointed.”

“Never,” Dean had whispered, turning to face him and resting their foreheads together on the pillow, “Besides, we just promised forever, right? It’s not like you’re never gonna get another shot at it.”

Thinking back now, the memory of being inside Dean left Cas feeling warm and tingly all over. Pushing thoughts of breakfast aside, Cas kicked off his shoes and sank back down on the mattress with his friend.

“Is it morning already?” Dean asked as Cas curled up with him.

“Yes, Dean,” he answered. “I’ve retrieved the newspaper.”

“Breakfast,” whispered Dean, rolling off the bed and getting to his feet. “What time’s the crew coming back today?”

“I think we’re on our own today,” Cas chuckled.

“Well then, let’s get some food in me.”

They pulled on some clothes and headed down the walk to the Impala together. Cas climbed in and slid over next to Dean. He always loved the way it felt when Dean would casually drop an arm over his shoulder as he backed out of a driveway, and he smiled as Dean did it now. There were a lot restaurants around here that they hadn’t tried yet. Heading toward 63rd street, Dean suggested an all American kind of place that they’d passed yesterday on one of their many trips to the new house. Cas nodded his agreement as his stomach rumbled for bacon.

A shimmer caught his eye and when he looked down, he saw it was his new ring reflecting the morning sunlight. He smiled warmly and asked, “Is it okay to tell people? About getting married?”

“Sure Cas, we’re engaged. The running and hiding is behind us and so are the secrets. Hell, we even have smartphones again. The world is our oyster.”

Thrilled to be Dean’s fiancé, Cas pondered who he’d be calling first. His parents were dead. Thanks to Dean, he knew that now. He’d first been acquired by the Lab when his family had been in a car accident. He’d been 17 at the time. His mother had died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and his father shortly after arriving. He had been an only child. His name was on a list then, he simply hadn’t known it. The list had included many babies who, like him, had been part of a government run medical study of psychic ability. Apparently there were many such studies in the late ’70s and early ’80s, though most were relatively benign compared to the one he’d participated in, whose success had given birth to The Lab, or “home” as he’d once known it.

The study his mother had signed him up for as a baby had given her $2600. That was a tidy sum back then. His mother had received several other smaller payments for follow-up visits in his toddler years and assumed that to be the end of it. But no. His name was on a list. And the closer he got to adulthood, the more desirable he was to the owners of that list.

So, when his Social Security number had popped up at a hospital, some bounty hunter with security clearance had shown up at the hospital and filled out the paperwork, claiming to be a distant relative come to retrieve the poor orphan boy and take him home. And they had. They had sold him to Alistair, who had taken him “home.”

To this day, Cas had no memory of the events. But somehow, it felt better to know who his heart had been hurting for all these years. He’d visited his parents’ graves and left flowers. Oddly enough, they were sleeping in the same cemetery where he frequently visited Tessa’s grave, or the one he considered to be hers. He would visit them all, every time he hunted in the area. He’d promised himself that.

However, lately, he’d been hunting farther south. Dean had cautioned him that they were renting their house instead of buying it. The reason was simple. Cas’ killing of Darks would eventually lead the police to label his actions as the workings of a serial killer, and they would mount a manhunt. When that day came, they’d throw a dart at a map and choose a new home, easily walking away from this one.

But for now, Cas simply worked to keep his methods and route varied. All the proceeds taken from the wallets of his kills became his income and with it he paid bills and ate in restaurants and bought groceries just like everyone else.

He didn’t buy a car, though, still preferring to get a phone call from Dean every afternoon when he punched out at Bobby’s shop. Cas loved being picked up in the Impala after hunting. One day, he had climbed in to see Dean giving him the fish eye and a wide grin.

“What?” he’d asked.

Dean had just laughed as he leaned over to inspect a small spatter of blood on the collar of his trench coat. “Cas,” he’d teased, “I think you may be losing your touch.”

Cas loved riding in Dean’s car. Especially now that the howling winter winds were past. With warmer weather, the windows could be rolled down again. Cruising in Baby with the windows down and the radio on… what could be better?

Spring was everywhere now. The trees had blossoms and tiny leaves were starting to unroll. The grass, recently turned green, was growing thick, and the days were getting longer. Summer would soon be upon them. And, over the summer, Cas would be taking his first ever vacation. The plan was to road-trip up to the cabin for a week where they’d visit Mic and Jesse, who were still living there. Cas had needed a quiet and private place to take the survivors of the Lab, so most of December and January had been spent up north in the mountains. At least they weren’t living “off the grid” anymore. The cabin now had electricity and hot water and even a TV with cable and a gaming box.

Jesse was a petulant child if ever there was one. But Mic was strong in body and will. He devoured everything Cas taught him and read books about how to be a good parent. The progress was far faster than Cas would’ve initially imagined, and both father and son seemed quite happy. When they’d seemed stable enough, Cas had left them to enjoy the solitude and returned with Dean to Kansas City.

Ava and Baz hadn’t stayed with the group for long either, both returning to the families they’d been plucked from shortly after their rescue. The mute they’d pulled from A ward, Dan, wasn’t so lucky. He did eventually start speaking, but he never really bonded to the group and his tendency toward self-harm had landed him in an institution where he could be watched constantly and given medical care.

Ava finally got to have her wedding, though with everything else going on, Dean and Cas hadn’t been able to attend. They’d sent a card and gift along with Sam, who did attend with Sarah by his side. They’d had some time together over the holidays, but once school started back up they were separated.

Sarah was living with her dad in New York and Sam was back at Bobby’s, busting his ass to catch up on several months’ worth of classwork in an attempt to still graduate with the rest of his class. So far, it was looking like he might be successful and actually go off to college in the fall as planned.

College was obviously Sam’s primary motivator, though Cas suspected it had less to with education than it did his plans to attend NYU with Sarah. No amount of talk, text, or Skype was enough for the boy, and it was obvious that he burned to be back with his girl. As of now, the summer vacation plans included Sam and Sarah joining for their week at the cabin… both couples looking forward to fishing on the lake, hiking the trails like old times and passing around a bottle as they clustered at the fireplace after dark.

After their week at the cabin, Cas and Dean were planning to spend the remainder of their two-week vacation on the west coast. Ever since Cas had seen the city of San Francisco with the group, he’d been hoping to go back. He couldn’t wait to see the ocean again. And, this time, he’d get to actually walk on the beach and swim in the water. Brandy and Evan were back living in California now, and the couple were hopeful that while on vacation in California, Dean and Cas would come for a visit.

“Look at that!” whooped Dean, pulling Cas' wandering mind back to the present. The Impala was sliding smoothly into a parking space, right next to the front door of the restaurant. “Rock star parking,” Dean gloated smugly, "Let's eat."

They gorged on ambitious breakfast platters and then patted their bellies as they pushed aside their plates.

“What’s the plan when we get home?” Cas asked as they got up to leave.

“Dunno, I guess getting the bed upstairs is the first order of business.”

“I’d like to take a nap,” Cas joked, feeling his full tummy gurgle.

They were still discussing their plans when they pulled into the driveway. John’s black truck was parked at the curb and both he and Bobby were perched on the front porch steps, waiting.

“Hey,” Dean greeted as they crossed the lawn, “I didn’t know you guys were comin’ over today.”

“Had to bring my boy a housewarming gift,” John said as he got to his feet.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, leaning in for a quick hug with each his father and uncle.

“It’s a hammock,” John said with pride. “Ya string it between two trees. Best nap you’ll ever have.”

Dean took the package and stepped aside while he looked it over. Cas then found himself being pulled into a quick and informal hug by both Bobby and John in quick succession.

“Good to see ya again, Cas” John said, looking him in the eye.

“You too, sir,” Cas responded as he stepped over to Dean’s shoulder to examine the hammock.

“How’d it go yesterday?” John inquired.

“Got it all,” Dean beamed proudly. “All we have left to do at the old place is clean up.”

“Good work,” John said, slapping Dean on the back.

“Yeah, it was a damn good day,” Dean said with a smile. “Wasn’t it Cas?”

Cas gave a nod and returned his attention to the hammock.

“Um Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Wasn’t it a good day, yesterday?” repeated Dean, pulling the hammock back out of his hands.

“Y-Yes, Dean it was,” he answered. It seemed that Dean was trying to tell him something, but Cas couldn’t figure out what. He looked back and forth between his Bright and their guests, trying to put his finger on what he was missing.

“Anything memorable happen yesterday?” Dean prompted.

“Um…” his mind flashed to their lovemaking last night, but surely Dean wasn’t wanting him to comment on that.

Clearly exasperated, Dean finally just reached out and grabbed Cas’ hand. He held it up towards John and Bobby, showing off the ring he’d slid into place last night.

“Oh!” laughed Cas, finally catching on, “Yes, I almost forgot, we are engaged now.”

“Well, congratulations you two,” John said as he traded quick hugs between the two of them. “I’m so happy for you son,” he’d added as he clapped Dean on the back. Seeing Dean receive affection from his father like that made Cas’ heart swell. Bobby moved in too, taking his turn to congratulate them. After the four had traded off hugs and handshakes, things grew quiet. It was almost awkward until John finally piped up and said, “Well son, I suppose if you think you’re ready to be married, then we’d better have ‘the talk’.”

“The talk?” Dean questioned.

“You know… the talk.”

“I’m actually set on the talkin’, Dad,” Dean joked. “I’m square with that whole ‘birds n bees’ thing.”

“If you say so,” Bobby laughed, giving him a slap on the back. “C’mon Cas, let’s give these two a few minutes for the ‘father-son’ talk.”

Cas wasn’t quite sure what the underlying meaning was behind their awkward little sayings, but he nodded just the same and followed Bobby as he turned to head into the house. As they were stepping away, he heard John mutter something to Dean about setting up the hammock. When he and Bobby entered the house, they headed for the kitchen.

“Got any beers in the fridge yet?” Bobby asked gruffly.

“I don’t think so,” he answered. “But there’s probably a few left in the cooler from yesterday.”

“Ah,” said Bobby as he flipped the lid open and pulled one out, “beer for breakfast. That’s the start of a good day.”

Cas moved to the sink to rinse out a glass and fill it with tap water. From the window over the sink, he could see John and Dean. They were clearly engrossed in deep conversation, but as they talked, they were working to anchor one end of the hammock to a tree trunk. Cas chuckled as he watched Dean flub it and have to start over.

From behind him, Bobby said, “I thought we should give them some time. John’s got more on his mind than just a ‘father-son’ talk.”

“I see,” Cas said softly, turning to face Bobby. The man was pushing a chair up to the table, and Cas mimicked the action so they could sit down together.

“I had something for you anyway,” he said, pulling a piece of paper from his back pocket and handing it over to Cas.

“What’s this?” he asked as he opened it.

“Well, when we blew up the Lab, it was mostly empty. I know it bothered you that Naomi and some of the worst weren’t there. So, I thought you could use this.”

“Is this an address?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Is it her?”

“Yep. Her real name ain’t Naomi, but that’s her address. Do whatever you think is best, Cas.”

Stunned, he could only nod. Even the mention of her name had taken Cas back to places he’d hoped never to think of again. But he understood why it was necessary to dispatch her. Clearly Bobby understood it too. Some people are so evil that they can’t be allowed to live… they will never do anything but bring pain and misery to others. _Yes_ , Cas thought as he ran his finger gently along a crease in the paper, _I will pay her a visit._

“On to brighter things,” Bobby grinned, leaning forward in his chair. “Something got delivered to the shop last night. A bottle of scotch, the hoity toity kind. You know anything about that?”

Cas smiled warmly. “Dean,” he replied, by way of explanation.

“Well, you two can have it. We’ll call it an early wedding present. If I drink that shit – I’ll never be able to go back to the rotgut I usually drink.”

“We’ll save it,” Cas answered, “for a special occasion. Lily and Andy have been on the road in the van for a while now. They called the other day to say they’d be passing through soon. It will be nice to have a really good bottle to pass around when we sit by the fire.

“Have you guys cranked up the fireplace yet? Or does it need cleaned?”

“Bobby,” laughed Cas, “We haven’t even pulled the mattress upstairs yet.”

“How many bedrooms you got up there?”

“Three. It’ll be nice to have the space when friends visit from out of state.”

At first, when they’d looked at this house, it had seemed too large and empty. It was bigger than Bobby and Ellen’s place and at least double the size of Dean’s old house. But, Dean had pointed out that they’d seldom be alone here. Their group of gifted friends would be frequent guests. At some point, Dan may be released from the mental hospital and need a family. When that happened, he’d have a room with them. So would any of their friends who ever needed a place for any reason.

After all, the group had made a pact… to protect and care for one another always. When he thought of this, Cas realized he actually had quite a few phone calls to make. He might officially be an orphan now, but there were still lots of people who would be thrilled to hear the news of his engagement. Dean had once told him that he wasn’t without a family, and Dean was right. The group of strangers who had begrudgingly crammed themselves into a cabin together as they hid from a common enemy, had now become his family in every way that mattered.

“Family don’t end with blood,” Dean had once said. And Cas knew that he was right. After all, Bobby was every bit as special to Dean as his own father and they weren’t related by blood at all.

“When’s the big day?” Bobby asked, breaking the long silence that had stretched out as Cas’ thoughts had wandered.

“Big day?” he questioned.

“Yeah, idjit, when are you two tying the knot?”

“Oh,” he nodded, finally understanding what Dean’s uncle was asking him, “We haven’t really talked about a wedding yet; he just asked me last night.”

“I see. Well, you’ll have to give us a heads up. I’m sure Ellen will want to help you boys out with some of the plans.”

“Alright,” he smiled, glad to imagine that she would be involved, “Honestly, I know Dean wants to marry me, but I don’t think he wants a wedding. It doesn’t seem like an event he’d enjoy.”

“Bah,” Bobby chortled dismissively, “I think he might surprise ya. The boy’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s creamy filling on the inside.”

Cas smiled at the analogy, and the two chatted for a few more minutes before they heard the front door click. Pushing away from the table and heading back towards the front room, they met up with John.

“Where’s Dean?” Cas asked.

“Well Cas,” John said evasively, “he said he needed a few minutes alone. I left him out there to break in the hammock.”

Cas nodded, glancing back and forth between John and Bobby. There was a thick tension in the room. Whatever was going on between John and Dean, Bobby was privy to it and Cas wasn’t.

“I guess we’d better shove off,” Bobby said, breaking the awkward silence. “I’m still trying to find my desk at the shop. It’s buried in paperwork that goes back months. We’ll see you boys,” he said as he gestured good bye. Cas waved as the two stepped out and then moved across the room to a window. Pressing his nose to the glass, he caught sight of Dean. He was, indeed, lying in the hammock. It was swinging gently from side to side between two large shade trees in the side yard.

John had said Dean wanted time alone. Though he couldn’t imagine what for, Cas honored his wishes. Seeking to occupy his time, he began unpacking. Hauling one box at a time up to the table, he opened them and reviewed their contents. Some he set aside, some he carried upstairs and some he unpacked into kitchen cupboards and drawers.

As he was working, Cas came across a small box that was meant to go upstairs. It contained all the items that were normally kept on their dresser in the bedroom. From the box he pulled a small picture frame, tracing the line of the frame with his finger as he looked closely at the beautiful woman who smiled inside it. Mary Winchester.

He’d heard mention of her a few times… memories from Dean… musings from Sam… even some stories from John. She was very dear to them all, especially Dean, who romanticized her memory into near sainthood.

Based on John’s lively stories… she was far more like Dean than any saint should be. She was fun loving, trouble making, and wicked smart. She had owned John from the moment they’d met, and her memory had haunted the man for half a lifetime. This photo was old; crinkled with age and abuse. But, it had been the single item Dean had taken with him when he’d initially abandoned his home to go on the run with Cas.

Now, Cas couldn’t help but feel tenderness towards the picture that had meant so much to Dean. He carried it over to the built-in bookshelves in the adjacent dining room and placed it on the top shelf, assuming that it was a place of high esteem. As he passed by the window again, he glanced outside. Dean’s hammock was still now, but his man wasn’t asleep.

Opening the cooler, Cas found one last beer floating in the water that had been ice yesterday. Luckily, it was still cold. The label was falling apart from soaking in water so he threw it away, rinsed the bottle and headed outside.

Shafts of soft, late afternoon sunshine were filtering through the tree branches as Cas cut across the yard. As he tentatively drew closer, Dean smiled for him – silent permission to approach.

“Thanks,” he said as Cas handed him the cold drink. “Wanna join me?”

“Only if you want. I can go back inside if you’d like more time alone.”

“Nah, come try this,” Dean said, gesturing for Cas to climb in with him.

He did, awkwardly. Dean had to lean far to the opposite side to counter his weight as he climbed in, and both laughed when he finally gave up on dignity and just flopped down. In response to Cas's weight, the hammock was now swinging again. He and Dean wiggled around for a moment as they sought out suitable places for their knees and elbows. When both had finally settled, Dean took a sip from his bottle and passed it to Cas.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” he said, letting out a deep sigh.

“What?”

“I’ve got another brother.”

“What?” Cas choked, swallowing his drink down the wrong pipe.

“Yeah,” Dean laughed, taking the bottle so that Cas was free to lean over and cough roughly. “Yeah. Can you believe that shit?”

“Another brother,” Cas repeated, unsure how this could have transpired and what he was meant to say about it.

“My dad,” Dean explained, “he said that he was lonely after mom died and he messed around some. He had a nurse that bandaged him up in the ER one night, after a rough-n-tumble with a bad dude. Anyway, she ‘took care of him’,” Dean joked. “Like FULLY took care of him, if ya know what I mean.”

“Yes Dean,” Cas blushed, “I think I’m understanding just fine.”

“Well, anyway, when she turned up pregnant, he had to have ‘the talk’ with her. He told her that he was wanted and that dangerous people would come looking for her and the baby if they knew John was involved. She said she didn’t need anything from him and planned to raise the kid on her own. He says that he’s thought about it a lot over the years… wondered what the kid looked like and stuff. But he couldn’t ever see them. Not without putting them in danger.

“So, after we blew the Lab,” continued Dean, “he took off and went to visit her. He told her it was over, and she let him see the kid. They’ve spent a little time together now. Adam is his name. He says he wants to meet us, me ’n’ Sam. Can you believe that, Cas?”

“That’s… quite unexpected,” Cas afforded. “How do you feel?”

“M’not sure,” Dean answered. “It’s a lot to take in. That’s why I needed some time alone. But I think… I mean, I think… I’m happy. I have a brother, Cas. A whole new brother.”

“Does Sam know?”

“Dad’s telling him right now. He was headed over there when he left. He said to give him some time to talk to Sammy alone, but then we can come over later if we want. Ellen’s making dinner for us. Roast beef and potatoes. My favorite.”

“That sounds good, Dean, and it sounds like you want to go.”

“I do, Cas,” Dean said, rolling to the side a little and tucking in close. It was nice to lay like this, outside where the air was fresh and sweet and the birds were singing in the trees around them. Their house looked so pretty in the amber light; it practically glowed. The men stayed cuddled up together for quite a while, letting the hammock come to a complete stop and almost falling asleep.  

“It’s a good life we’re makin’ here, Cas,” murmured Dean as he pressed a kiss to Cas’ cheek, “A damn good life.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated tags... Bottom Dean/Top Cas
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this story. Please consider leaving a comment to let me know what you thought?
> 
> Find the pictures to go with my stories at [Tumblr](http://rachwill.tumblr.com//)


End file.
